Welcome to King's County
by focusedOnProsperity
Summary: A high profiled & gruesome murder has hit small town King's County. Who is telling the truth? Who is guilty? Can personal issues stay out of the way? AU, non ZA. Some Richonne. Many characters. Graphic Material
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: In Your Head**

Rick Grimes pinched his nose. She knew this likely meant, and began rubbing his shoulders, intertwined with kisses.

"No, I just can't."

She sighed, and rolled over to the other side of the bed.

"It's bad enough you stopped to pick up the phone. What was it?"

"They want me go over to Sgt. Ford's house."

"Can't Daryl or Shane go? Why do you have to always go when something happens?" She rested on her elbows now, knowing in her heart the lovemaking session had evaporated.

He stopped rubbing to turn around from his position at the edge of the bed. He stared at her questioningly for 20 seconds. "Lori, I am this town." She responded with rolling eyes. "Babe, you know this." He affectionately kissed her shoulder as she turned her back.

"So you want to continue this before you go?"

"No," he began walking to the master bathroom. "Try waiting up for me?"

Her eyes batted. She did not answer and he didn't wait for the response.

"Bout time yo' ass showed out," Shane declared. He stood in front of the ranch-style mansion, inhaling his cigarette.

"What are you doing here," inquired Rick. "I was on my way you know."

Shane rubbed his head. "Yea, well Rhee and his people heard you weren't here yet."

"Shiiiit! Let's just get this going. What's going on here?"

"Well," Shane opened the door to the crime scene. "It ain't lookin' pretty." They walked through the outdoorsmen looking living room to walk up the stairs. "I know me 'n' you never seen anything like this before, so be ready to not be ready. The upstairs hallway had more of a feminine touch; family portraits adorned the well-lit hall. "I used to say this lady shoulda came my way." He opened the master bedroom door. "And lookin at this, she shoulda given yo' ol' boy a chance.

On the floor lay what was Hollie Ford. Her blonde head was separated from the rest of her body. The distance between what was once one spanned the width of the giant room. A blood trail lay in between the body parts, and even her abdomen was not left untouched. Her intestines were sprawled and nearly touched her bed.

Rick's instinctively cupped his mouth.

"Down the hall to the left," informed Shane.

It wasn't hard to cuff Abraham Ford. He was the one who called 911. He sat on his couch and awaited the officials' arrival. His witty banter left his soul. All he wanted to do was to wake up from this nightmare. The yells and threats from Officers Dixon and Walsh were background noises. They weren't going to kill him, so what did it matter?

"I want my lawyer."

They shut up. Behind the mirror were Rick and D.A. Glenn Rhee. They both sighed when he said this.

"I don't care what the prick does, that sick asshole is going down," prophesized Glenn.

"It just doesn't make any kind of sense," pondered the sheriff.

Glenn sniffed. "He's not the first veteran who lost his mind. No one ever believed me when I used to say that soldiers have PTSD."

"Yea, but that was pretty damn gruesome."

The DA shook his head at the thought. "Well, no matter what, we have to get his lawyer. This man has money. I'm looking forward to some golden laced bullshit for his defense."

Rick later informed Daryl and Shane that he'd handle the interrogation. If he was "the police", then he'd better be ready to interrogate someone while a rich lawyer was there.

While waiting, he received a text from Lori. _Just found out Shane went to the crime scene. You could have stayed home. How much do you really care about me, if it's so easy to leave me_?

His face soured. He wished she would understand how much he loved her, but the need to fight over what didn't need to be fought about killed him.

After a few hours, the lawyer finally made their appearance. The precinct echoed the click clack of her Louis Vuittons stomped through. Other noises were made as many pens dropped. The steps stopped in front of Rick's desk, whose eyes still focused on the frustrating essay/texts that Lori continuously sent.

"Excuse me," she intruded.

The sheriff looked up to the woman with flawless skin, hair wrapped in a bun, wide brown eyes. He was taken back, and momentarily forgot his purpose for being at work at this God forsaken time.

"Uh, yes, how can I help you."

"Ford, Abraham Ford. I'm here for my client."

"Yes ma'am, right this way." He jumped out of his seat to lead the way. He had to remind himself that she was the enemy, and there couldn't be many pleasantries between them. He opened the door and received nothing but a cold nod as a thanks.

The interview did not go well at all. At least not for Rick. It seemed that attorney Michonne Gibson could read his every thought. There was no progress. All he could say was that the accused called 911 and waited to be arrested. That said nothing, and made him feel weak as a leader. This Gibson character struck him down without a thought. She didn't seem to be from around here in King's County. She didn't seem to be from the South either. Who was she? Was it her who smelled so good.

Rick's eyes closed tight as he tried to focus on writing his report. The DA was going to be pissed, and Abraham's savvy attorney would likely and effectively fight for bail. Shane was right, he wasn't ready for this.

He drank some coffee as he walked up to Daryl's desk.

"You have anythang else on this Ford case?"

"Well," Daryl began, "he was probably screwin' around."

"Is that so?"

"Ever heard of Rosita Espinosa?"

Rick scratched his head. "No."

"She's a Playboy bunny. Did this spread back in April…whew boy!" Rick glared at him. "Yea, well, anyway, rumor has it that they've been fuckin'."

Rick expected Lori to still be in bed by the time he got home at 5am. That or cooking. She didn't work… He was planning to crawl into that bed and make up for their interruption, sex her enough so that the thoughts of Hollie's body could drift out of his mind. So that the sexiness of how M. Gibson crossed and uncrossed her legs would fade away into how beautiful his wife was. Instead, he came home to seeing her packing his bags. As she continued to attempt to get a rise out of him, he marched into bed and slept with one hand on his dick.


	2. Chapter 2

**_AN: _**_Thanks everyone for the reviews!_

**Chapter 2: Friend's in Need**

Michonne's short time in this country time was proving to be interesting already. She had only been there for a few days, and had a high profile case. This was definitely beating all of her expectations.

"So, how many of those hick cops dropped their jobs when they saw you? " asked Mike as he wiped Andre's face.

Michonne blushed. "Maybe all of them. But seriously, no one had that on their mind."

"Yea, that's a bona fide lie," he laughed. He was proud of the beauty he had, and was really self-assured. As attractive as she was, he knew she won a prize also. "Will you tell me what the case is about?"

She laughed and picked up little Andre. "You know there are too many ears around here for that."

"Cofientialidy!" Exclaimed the toddler.

"Exactly!" Beamed his mother at his intelligence.

Mike sockets l snickered as he grabbed his son's small book bag. "I can't stand how you two team up against me."

"You love it!" She leaned in for a sweet kiss, which he reciprocated. They stepped out their home together, starting out another day in a new town.

/

Abraham knew she could help pay for the collect calls. He was beyond annoyed with his current situation. If anyone could prove his alibi, it was her. He was sure she was aware of his predicament - a celebrity like him in this small town with a stubbed toe would be on the news 24/7. Hopefully, Attorney Gibson was gifted in getting her clients' bail. He did not deserve this crap.

"Are you, are you Sgt. Abe?"

Abraham continued to look outside of the lockup.

"You are!" exclaimed the man sharing his cell.

Abraham sighed and looked over. The man was shorter than him and well dressed, however his tie was lose and a shirt tail hung out of his pants.

"You, you don't have to answer. I just want you to know I'm one of your biggest fans! You inspired me to join the army! Now I'm a trauma medic, just following my dreams like you always said."

Abe hesitantly nodded his head. "Well, that's good."

"My wife just threw me out, though. She said no matter how much I try to brighten her up, I fuck up the reality." Abe faintly smelled liquor.

"Do you really think you should be telling all of your business to someone you just met?"

"Uh, you're right." The young man secluded himself to a corner, much to Abraham's satisfaction.

The friendly man made him realize that he should call a close friend rather than a possibly vindictive woman. He waved an officer over so that he could reach out to Eugene.

/

"Hi, this is Officer Dixon. No, this ain't about some stalker. What? No, we're not handling that. Excuse me? If you could let me finish? Nah, I'm calling from King's County. He-Hello? Piece of shit!" Daryl slammed the phone. He looked over to Shane, who shook his head with the same look of dismay.

"Dammit Dixon, I know I got some other shit to do than this! We're the damn police; I never had to beg to speak to anyone!"

"Yea, I feel like a stalker to this chick I don't even care about!" They paused, trying to figure something out. "Has Rick told you anything?"

"Nah, not ye-"

Rick walked in, greeting his comrades with a nod of the head. "What's up boys?"

"Nothin," responded Daryl.

"Not shit," truthfully told Shane. He rubbed his head. "Do we really need to do work on this? I mean, it should be obvious that man did some ol' Saw shit to his woman. Right?"

Rick pinched his nose. "Um, no. He has some hot shot lawyer from out of town."

"How much of a hot shot could he be?" asked Daryl.

"Glenn told me of how _she_ helped this woman get off from killing her husband. They found her standing outside of her burning house, not crying or anythang, and all of the evidence was there. She used domestic violence as a defense, even though there was no legal record of him abusing her."

"Shiiiiit," Shane rubbed his head. "I hate mother fuckers who put their hands on women, but I know women hardly stand a chance when they kill their abuser."

"Yea, Glenn told me some other cases. The point is, we need to cross our t's and dot our i's."

"What?" asked Daryl.

Shane playfully tapped his head. "That means get to work, fool, and let's make sure this mother fucker gets life or the death penalty!"

/

"Hello?"

"Hey, thanks for taking my call. Have you seen the news?"

"Y-yes. That is affirmative," the monotone voice replied.

"Eugene, I really need your help. I need you to reach out to Rosita for me, okay. This is life or death!"

"That would be feat left for someone who could handle her handlers, and her handlers have kicked me out of several buildings before."

Abraham rubbed his face. Did Eugene just admit that he was her stalker? "Okay," he sighed.

"You have 60 seconds," interrupted the automated operator.

Eugene stated, "60 seconds is not enough time to plan anything to procure your freedom from that temporary place of incarceration."

Abraham did not wait. He slammed the phone down instead. He was dealing with a wife who was heinously murdered, a lover and his only alibi who avoided his calls, and a moron for a best friend who stalked his lover. Yep, things were going pretty well for him…sure.

/

The DA hurried to his lunch meeting. Although it was a lunch meeting, he could never afford to be late. At least, that's what he always told himself. The elevator moved fast enough. He waved high to the people whose offices stood in the way of the most important office. His strong demeanor faltered just a bit when he walked through the double doors, seeing her gorgeous face as she scrolled her smart phone.

"A woman who works so hard deserves some Thai."

Her eyes quickly left her phone to the bags in his hand. She rose from behind her desk to give him a tender kiss. "This is one of the reasons I can never stop loving you." She kissed him again.

"No, I'm the lucky one." He really believed that, with all of his soul.

They sat at her desk. "So," she inquired, "you can never really make me mad. But I need to know. When were you gonna tell me about this Sgt. Abe and Hollie?"

Glenn sighed. "Maggie, I was about to do it during our lunch, which is now."

"Yea, well, I have to know this. We have to make sure that everyone at least feels safe. How can they feel safe if I'm out of the loop?"

"You're right, honey. Well, it happened, and he has a big time lawyer."

Maggie deeply inhaled. "It's funny, I'm not the cause of problems like this to happen. But I'm sure people will blame you and me if this doesn't get taken care of the right way."

He reached over to hold her hand. "You know, I know it's tough for you to fill your father's shoes. I still know you'll be the best mayor this place ever had."


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: Annoyed**

He had to be the most fidgety client she ever had! She had to remind herself to not swat his hand as she would Andre; this man was no child – but he sure could behave like an overgrown child! Then again, he had a horrible case that he professed his innocence to. She had to understand the nervousness.

"What do you think he'll say?"

Michonne remained calm. "What did I tell you, Sgt. Ford? We'll have to wait and see. I know you're aware, but this case is very…complicated. We'll just play on your service to the community, service to this country, and philanthropy."

Abraham sunk in his chair. He thought of former comrades, some of whom who were forgotten by society who he had to fight for to get into housing and other services. He knew deep in his heart that service maybe meant nothing for a cheating man who had a wife at home with a severed head.

"Whatever happens today, you have to show true sadness for her death." Lights bounced off of her glasses.

"_True sadness_? I'm beyond that! She was the love of my life."

"We'll," she cleared her throat, "get more into that later in private –"

"Order in the court! Now presenting, Judge Phillip Blake!"

-00000000-

"All right babe. Yea, you know big daddy will give it to you just the way you like it. Is it mine? You know it is. Oh really? Um, I'm gonna have to hit you back lata'." Shane pressed the end button quickly.

Rick laughed, "Okay Casanova, didn't mean to interrupt."

Shane rubbed his head. "Nah man, I gotta get back to work anyway. These ladies harass me – I gotta give 'em a taste so that they can get by for the rest of the day without me. They just have to get cut off when they start throwing that L word in there."

Rick smirked. "Man, I wish I had that kind of pull with my own wife. She wants me to do so much stuff, but I'm always doing _stuff_ and _thangs_. It's not enough."

"When was the last time you took her out?"

Rick stared outside the car window. "Shit, we all went out to Fish 'n' Chips last weekend."

"_We all went out._ Dude, you are so clueless at times man! You need to just take _her _out!"

Rick laughed at the simplicity of the situation. "I guess."

"Yea, you know I'm right, man. Get it togetha!"

"Well, it's hard. Its bad enough I don't spend enough time with her. But, on top of that, I don't spend enough time with Carl or Judith. I'm not gonna stop taking my job serious, either. She wants this. She wants that. Do you know I rub her feet at least 4 times a week?"

"What the hell?" Shane rubbed his head, glad that he didn't have a fate as cruel. "Oh wait…is that him?"

Rick pulled out his binoculars. "I see a mullet…yea, no one has a mullet anymore, not even down here. Let's go say hi."

-00000000-

The DA continued, "The defendant has many resources, and is definitely a flight risk. This man should not be given the opportunity to run away from this case. His wife was heinously murdered, and it is our responsibility to ensure that the rest of the community is protected."

Abraham shifted in his chains. "I ain't no damn threat! I served for this damn country!"

Michonne nudged him to quiet.

"Mr. Ford," the judge struck down his mallet. "You only spoke when spoken to in my court! Ms. Gibson, please keep your client under control."

"Yes, Judge Blake." Michonne eyes' shot daggers at Abraham.

"Can you tell us why Mr. Ford deserves bail?"

"Judge Blake, Sgt. Ford has been more than a civil servant. He has no criminal records. He has served for the military for over seventeen years and didn't just retire, but has been actively involved in the community with philanthropy and other services. We wouldn't even have a local VA office in this county without his efforts. He knows the laws and realizes the seriousness of this case. He is also well aware that there are strong repercussions for leaving town."

The judge rubbed his chin, staring at Michonne long enough to make her uncomfortable. DA Rhee even got uneasy.

"His bail it is set at $1 billion, it is so ordered." The judge left quickly.

Michonne looked worriedly at her client, while Glenn happily shook hands with his team.

"I don't have _that _much money!" proclaimed Abraham.

"I know," she meekly responded.

-000000000-

Eugene was not ready when they approached him. Really, he was never ready when anyone approached him. He loved solitude in life. It allowed him not to encounter the strange stares people gave him in conversations and the chance to do what he wanted to do. Abe was the only one who was okay with dealing with him. Well, Rosita used to like him until…

"Sheriff Grimes and Deputy Walsh." The one with the wide-brimmed hat flashed his badge. "Are you Eugene Porter?"

"Umm, yes." His sweaty fingers dropped his keys. He kneeled to pick them up, fumbled once again to open his door, and dropped them again.

"Jesus Christ," sighed Shane as he rubbed his head.

"I, I just want you to know that it's well within my rights to enjoy explicit material of women engaged in sexual activity over the age of 18 on the devices that I own."

"What?!" Rick's face expressed disgust. "Gimme those damn keys!" He unlocked Eugene's apartment door so that he wouldn't say anymore nonsense in public.

They walked into the barely furnished home. "Do you know Abraham Ford," asked Deputy Walsh.

"Yes, he's a friend, through and through."

"Do you know of his whereabouts two nights ago?" inquired the sheriff.

Eugene's hands were shaky.

"Mr. Porter?"

"Ummmm, I do not recall the events of that night, no sir." He patted the sweat of his forehead with his bare palms.

Rick stood up. "Thank you for your time sir."

They left the apartment and got into the patrol car quickly.

"What the fuck was that?!" exclaimed Shane, rubbing his head once again.

Rick pinched his nose. "Shit if I know. I think we really need that forensic report before the next business day. No word on Espinosa yet?"

"Maybe you should try reaching her. Daryl can't get past her people, and he doesn't appreciate being called a redneck and hick during each phone call."

-0000000-

The "Chateau Lounge" tried as hard at its attempt at a classy name to be unique. A base player took the lead while the rest of the jazz band played sultry music. The room was dimmed red and the furniture was a white postmodern fantasy land.

Rick tried to not think about the amount of extra hours he might have to put in for this treat to his wife. He also hoped it was worth it. So far so good. She was all smiles as he pushed her chair in as she sat down.

"Rick, you shouldn't have," she beamed. "This place, wow, I never saw anything like it! You should surprise me more often!" He was so proud of how beautiful she looked in her flowery teal dress.

"I'd do anything to keep you smiling like this," he held her hands and was lost in his own meditative grin. Her hand grabbed onto his, but her eyes darted away from his stare.

"Well, I'm not sure that you would."

He ignored her words. "Tonight is your night, our night. I don't want you to be concerned about Carl and Judith – they'll be at my mom's. There's a surprise at home too…"

Lori's eyes watered. "Oh Rick!"

He smiled once again to her pleasure, but that soon faded when he glanced past her. His grinning eyes transformed into a piercing stare.

"Rick?" Lori turned around to see a handsome black couple that she never saw. "What is it?"

"N-nothing," he stuttered. He didn't want to admit the mixed emotions that hit him when he saw the defense attorney who shook him to his core, who he barely knew, but drew him in all at once. Rick was perplexed as to why he was upset that she actually could be happy, actually could be romantically involved with someone, and that person brought her joy. He rubbed his face. His thoughts disturbed him; here he was with his beautiful wife and transfixed by the enemy.

"Are you sure," inquired Lori. The sheriff knew that if he didn't have a legitimate answer, she would stump on him with misery.

"They're involved in something I can't tell you about. Honey, you know I can't tell you about the cases."

"Shane tells his girlfriends about what happens."

Rick's jaws clenched.

"Hello Sherriff," Michonne and Mike towered over their table.

"Oh, Hello," Rick stood up to hold out his hand.

Mike shook his. "Mike Edwards. My fiancé was telling me about your police department."

On cue, Michonne smiled and held out her hand for Lori. "Attorney Gibson." Her teeth sparkled.

"Lori Grimes," she pleasantly returned the introduction.

"I see this place is new; have you two ever eaten here before?" asked Michonne.

"No," was the simultaneous answer.

"Well, hopefully, the food is exquisite," Mike commented.

Michonne patted on her man's hand, which had been holding onto hers the whole time. "On that note, it was nice seeing you, and meeting you Mrs. Grimes. I hope you two have a lovely evening."

Rick's eyes followed Michonne's back. "You thinking what I'm thinking," Lori interrupted his thoughts.

"Maybe," her words woke him from his daze.

"Those two seem full of shit. No one's that happy with each other."

Rick sadly nodded his head.


	4. Chapter 4

**_AN: _**_Thanks for the reviews &amp; continued interest! My schedule is very busy now, so the updates will come out much slower. _

**Chapter 4: Compromise**

Her ebony fingers shifted through the wardrobe, feeling edgy about her choices. Most of her outfits were high fashion no doubt, but she began to consider having something a little more laid back for work. Maybe Judge Blake was intimidated by her. It wouldn't be the first time that happened in the judicial jungle. Besides, they now lived in a good ol' boy county, she was sure of it. She'd deal with any kind of environment to make sure her family thrived; to make sure he wasn't tempted by their surroundings.

"Babe," his sultry whisper breathed on the back of her neck as he locked his arms around her waist. "Why not wear nothing today?" He spanked her ass.

"Mike, if I do that..."

"Then you'll win that case you've been stressed about." His hands traced the perimeter of her thighs, avoiding the robe, until it played with the nub it was searching for. "Or better yet, I'll just take your mind off of it."

Michonne blushed and giggled from her lover's approach. That was soon replaced with gasps and moans.

!%/$=&amp;

Rick woke up with his arm draped over a drooling Lori. He knew he was in love the first time he saw her like this, and thought it was adorable. He smoothed her hair away from her face. It was probably impossible to make her 100% happy, but there was nothing to complain about in terms of their sex life. There would have to be something extraordinarily phenomenal to make him give up on her, their marriage, their family.

He slowly got up to avoid waking her. The blood started to flow again in his right arm from how he rested. Rick noticed in the bathroom mirror that his muscles were losing tone. When was the last time he hit up a gym? How strong did the Sergeant have to be to dismember Hollie like that? He tried to shake the images out of his head and splashed water on his face. He saw Abe at several events around town with the deceased. He may have been a cheater, but they always played the role of a happy couple. What could drive a man to do that to someone he at one time loved?

&amp;^%&amp;

Erykah Badu's voice lowly echoed throughout the kitchen as Mike cooked breakfast. Michonne took in his handsome presence. She was loving how easy this was here. He seemed so natural this way. This place had to be home.

"I can feel your eyes on me."

"After what you did to me upstairs, I can't help but to stare." Andre rubbed his eyes as she secured him in his high chair.

"Babe," Mike turned around. "After all that I've put you through, put us through, you can look forward to me giving you gifts every day."

Michonne returned a smile. It was when he resumed cooking that she wiped a lonely tear.

&amp;^%$

The grits were watery, and the eggs were a bit soggy, but the bacon was magnificently crispy. Carl walked in while the rest of his family was already seated for breakfast.

"Hey," he nonchalantly greeted.

Rick smiled as he continued to wave a spoon near Judith's face. "Morning!"

Lori looked up from her meal. "What took you so long? I was starting to get concerned."

Carl attempted to hide the compelling need to roll his eyes. "I had to shower. Look, I want to walk to school today."

"You're taking on a big responsibility if you do that," Rick told him.

"I think I'm ready. Remember, I used to be school safety?" Carl expertly only reached for the bacon.

His mother's lips pinched. "I didn't like it when you did that."

His father ignored her complaint. "Well, you got a point there. I'll give you a shot."

"Thanks Dad!" Carl ran off before Lori could further object. Rick smiled; his son was growing up.

"Why the hell did you let him do that?!" Lori stood to tensely scrape Carl's plate in the garbage.

Rick replied while smirking, "Lori, you used to always walk to school."

Her eyes widened. "That was then! Things have changed ~ he could be kidnapped or hit by a car!"

"He's 15. He can't be a baby all of the time."

She huffed, "you, of all people, should know how dangerous it is out there."

He chuckled to himself. It was his way of channeling anger – her frantic annoyance was cute, sure. "He can't live in a bubble, Lori." Rick stopped himself from saying that this most than likely about some girl. Oh no, that would have made her panic about potential babies. "Maybe you should go to the spa today and get your mind off of thangs."

# %%

She took off the cucumbers to see her assistant sitting next to her. Her towel-wrapped head rested back on the table. "If I didn't know any better, I'd say you're in love with me. But you probably are." Her assistant did not flinch and continued to look at her. "What Tara," she rolled her eyes.

"We can't all keep these people from looking for you. After a while, they'll figure out what your work schedule might be, where's your next appearance… I have your back at all costs, but why are you hiding out if you have nothing to hide?"

The starlet began to play with her nails. "Abe didn't kill that woman."

"He could get the death penalty for that you know. It's not my place but right is right, wrong is wrong."

"Not everything is black and white!" Rosita looked up with watery eyes. "You know, he wasn't gonna leave his wife for me. I was just his fantasy, something to escape with once in a while. The one he found when she was nothing, but look at her now, out there with posters on everyone's walls and magazines. But he never wanted me to be his reality. That was her. I couldn't compete with that if I tried. He wouldn't kill her. He didn't kill her."

Tara held her hands. "Sweetie, he'll be punished if you don't say something. Can you live with that?"

Rosita turned to her. "I don't think I'll live if I do."


	5. Chapter 5

**_AN: Thanks for the reviews and reading!_**

_-Warnings: sexual harassment (or pain ol' creepiness) &amp; implied racism_

**Chapter 5: A New World**

Everyone needs a release. Some bide their time in occupational misery until the time clock released them into freedom. The tension built up from the courtroom was her escape. Gone were random and uncertain thoughts of the possibility of Mike messing things up. No, in here she used her prowess. She yearned for opening arguments, but was smart enough to recognize the many holes in their situation.

"So you're saying that you left Ms. Espinoza's at 11 pm," she examined.

"Yes," Abraham affirmed.

"Where was she staying at?"

"Laketown Wharf in Panama City Beach. We usually spend our time there, where there's no paparazzi."

Michonne looked at the ceiling, allowing wheels to turn. "Did you drive of fly back?"

"I drove." His large fingers twiddled with each other. He looked at her, waiting for the next question.

"Of course." A man coming home from a long drive to heinously kill his wife? That didn't sound right. Unless... "You might not like me asking this, but you know, they will. How were things between you and Holly? Did she know about you and Rosita?"

Abraham's chest rose. "Her friends were starting to tell her that things didn't add up, so we were arguing more because I couldn't lie well enough. I still loved her, and knew I would never divorce her. She'd have to do it. But we still got along."

Michonne nodded in understanding. "Sorry, but were you still intimate?"

"Very much so. It wasn't just that. We went to the gun range together. Went out. Did everything we always used to."

"Where's this gun range?"

"'Martinez'. It's on Highway 22. We went last Saturday."

"Okay. I have to ask this too. Why the affair?"

Abe realized there was no judgment in her eyes. He figured that, with all of her experience, she might not care. "Everything's confidential, right?"

"Of course," was the quiet response.

"Rosita was there first. Holly didn't know it. But I had Rosita before anyone ever knew of her. She's been a part of me before I became a veteran. She's just been...there. I just never ended it."

His lawyer silently nodded her head again, trying to not judge him as a piece of shit. So, he cheated on his wife and mistress? She put up with more with Mike. Still, it didn't make sense for Abe to suddenly decide that Holly's life needed to end over never-ending affair. "Was there any other secret you were hiding? Are you gay, have children out of wedlock, involved in a money scheme?"

The huge man's shoulders shook as he belted out laughter. "Thank you for that! I haven't laughed in so long! I used to be the luckiest man on earth, but now I'm lucky to have a lawyer with a sense of humor."

Michonne's smile couldn't help but to join his amusement. "I'll take that as a 'no'."

-000000-

Her wheels never had so much dirt. This drive wasn't going as expected, and her trustworthy GPS had her going on circles.

"Terry, how many times do I have to say it? Lake-town-wharf! How long have you lived in the South? Yea, that place where kids go for Spring Break. It's not 'Redneck Alley' anymore, things change. "The gas pump read that it didn't accept credit cards. Michonne was becoming more annoyed as she walked to the store. "No, we're not gonna move back to Atlanta. Oh please, I didn't steal your best friend. Terry, just do your job - you know you don't like my ugly side."

Michonne hung up and blurted out, "can I please get 20 on number 1," without looking up as she examined packs of gum and maps.

"We-e-ell," Exclaimed a man's gruff but high pitched voice. "You look a bit out of place. What is someone like you doing around here?"

Michonne stiffened. "Excuse me," she chided.

"No, I don't mean because you're a sexy dark piece of chocolate. I mean because you're a bit too dittied up to be walking through the woods." He licked his lips, to which she shuddered.

Michonne contemplated the fact that she was indeed lost. "Where is Martinez' Gun Shop?"

The man with the name tag "Merle" smiled. "So, the Nubian princess is lost. I didn't know y'all could use guns nowadays, unless it's to shoot each other. Let's say I help you out and you give me your number."

"Let's say you put $20 worth of gas in pump number one, you tell me how to get to Martinez, and you can sleep another day with your dick not cut off."

Merle thought about it. She did seem like the type to cut off body parts.

-000000-

"Baby, I'm so sorry." Her hands rubbed the dashboard. "Momma's gonna give you a nice day at the car wash. Then we're going to the mechanics to make sure nothing bad happened on that mean, bumpy road."

She stepped out of her convertible BMW, laughing at how prissy she was a she chirped the alarm on. She came from a rough and tumble background. It might have been in an urban seettng, but it was foolish for her to be so upright. She had the money to save such a beauty of a vehicle if she needed to. Besides, how would she be if she had to live in the woods? She as sure she wouldn't be a damsel in distress.

The young professional walked into the gun shop and noticed Latino man eyeing her suspiciously.

"Are you Martinez?" She asked with a smile.

"Yes. Are you from out of town?"

"Yes and no. I just moved here. But I need to speak with you about my client. In his attorney, Michonne Gibson, and he said he and his wife were here last Saturday."

"Yes, Abe and his wife were here." Martinez relaxed a bit after seeing what Michonne's purpose was.

"How did you know I was going to-?"

"It's called the news. Nothing much happens around here."

"Would you mind being a witness?" She handed him her card.

Sheriff Grimes steeped out from an office. His and Michonne's eyes met with the same level of annoyance.

"I'll call you. I have to deal with something else at the moment."

Rick pretended she wasn't there. "Do you think he stole anything else?"

"No. The wife and I looked at the inventory again and again. It makes me not want to hire anyone again," responded Martinez.

"Okay, well we'll check where Randall usually hangs out..."

Michonne moved to the side as they continued to discuss a person who might become a new client. Meanwhile, she read a text from Bob Stookey, stating that he wanted to use his new attendance at an AA meeting as a character defense. "Absolutely!" she thought to herself. She looked up to see Rick glaring at her, invading her personal space.

"What are you doing here?"

"It's not my business to tell you."

"How did you know anything was happening here?"

She chuckled. "Oh my God. I never have to fish for a case. They. Come. To. Me."

Something in the way her plump lips formed words made his crotch swell, especially when she said "come". This only further angered him.

"I'd appreciate it if you wouldn't interrupt my investigations, Ms. Gibson."

She laughed again. Damn that smile was sexy. "There's no yellow tape. It's a free country. And you're interrupting my investigation." The smile transformed into a scowl, that he somehow found adorable.

Rick's jaw clenched. "Aren't you supposed to have investigators?"

Michonne thought of Terry, who had a tough time concentrating on life if drugs weren't involved. She simply didn't answer, and sauntered off to Martinez. Rick, in a zombie like trance, watched as her hips swayed away.

"Mr. Martinez, I see that your busy and am sorry that you have other troubles going on. Please give me a call so that the right person goes to jail. I hope your day gets better."

Rick's eyes were still fixated on the door after Michonne left.

"Dude, Lori would kick your ass if she ever saw that," Martinez joked.

"See what? That I can't stand her?"

"This is my first time seeing the woman, and you give her the ultimate fuck eyes. You hate her because you can't fuck her."

Rick couldn't believe he just said that. "I can't believe you just said that. I'm married and I love my wife. You keep talking nonsense like this, and I'll tell Gisele about what you really did at your bachelor party!"

Martinez' face twisted. He didn't remember much from that day. All he knew is it got dark. He also knew if Lori wasn't such a _bitch_, Rick wouldn't have the heart to lust.

"Well, all I'm gonna say is, you better be careful. You don't see many women in Kings County look that good, and carry themselves like her. You just better be careful."

Rick's hands rested on his hips. "Well, there's nothing to worry about. She's with someone anyway." Martinez could sense the jealousy.

"None of that matters. Even fantasizing about another woman doesn't matters. Just don't do anything stupid."

-000000-

Terry finally arrived at Laketown Wharf. It was a huge condominium, with a great view of the emerald shores of the Gulf Coast. He wondered why he never came to this area more often for R&amp;R. Oh, that's right. He was a gay Jewish man who was taught this area was full of rednecks. Maybe Michonne was right. It didn't seem so bad so far. They did have a long talk about how he sees other people and shouldn't be so quick to judge.

"Hi," he introduced himself, using his best John Wayne voice. "Terry David." He flashed his badge. "I'm a P.I. looking for information about Abraham Ford and Rosita Espinoza staying here."

The young blonde's flashing of braces came to a sudden halt. "Oh no, we don't give out information like that. I have to speak with my manager if anything."

He slid her an envelope, filled with hundreds.

-00000000-

"It's about time you picked up," Terry exasperated.

"Sorry. I didn't want to get lost in the woods again."

"What?"

Michonne squinted. "Never mind. What's up? What did you find? "

"Number 1, that place is beautiful!"

"Terry!"

"Number 2, your boy Abe wasn't lying. He and Rosita own a condo over at Laketown."

"No way!" Why wouldn't he tell Michonne this? She felt some agitation growing in her spine.

"Yes, but I'm sure he didn't know that a Eugene Porter shacks it up there a lot too."

"That's his best friend."

"Do you want me to look into it?"

Michonne paused. "See if you can get past Rosita's people. Eugene lives in the same town as me. I'll see what I can do."

She hung up before Terry would protest.


	6. Chapter 6

**_AN: If I owned any part of The Walking Dead or AMC, I'd be a helluva lot richer than I am now. Nope, this is all done in fun!_**

**_CodeName-M.e.: _**_Martinez is a fine ass SOB, isn't he? I heard that actor is about to be in some real deal movies coming up this summer. But anyway, I think if Martinez met Rick before he met the Governor, he could have been a "good guy" and gotten along with everyone. Remember that episode where they had a failed negotiation, and Martinez and Daryl actually _talked_? That let me know he wasn't just some goon. But yea, I bet most people can tell Rick has googily eyes. Will this story's Rick calm that down is the question._

**_literaturechick: _**_Is it just me, or are there certain scenes between Richonne that is combustible? And they aren't even romantically involved…I will explore later on in the story if Martinez is the only one who views Lori in that way (BTW, I glimpsed an article where I think the actress who plays Lori is glad she made her so hateful. Sometimes, playing the villain/very disliked character can be fun)._

**_Siancore:_**_ You're welcome. If you can tell by the tone I sometimes set in my stories, I'm not a fan of cheaters. It's against Rick's nature to cheat (ignore "Opaque Tides"; that's the exception). But…you best believe, he is doing his best to stick to his morals!_

**Chapter 6: Damsels**

Terry frantically dialed his friend's number. Women were so hard-headed. He was somewhat glad that he wasn't romantically involved with such a headstrong person such as her. Even if he wasn't, he still felt responsible for her. His guilt towards her was like an old, wet Band-Aid. He could change it, but never did. He left it there so he could remind himself of the pain she had to endure in the past. However, Terry knew he wasn't the one who caused the wound. It was the person who he was calling now.

"Mike, you gotta pick up!" This had to be the third time he called his best friend, only to hear it constantly go to voicemail. "Sonnovabitch!" he stammered as a nearby mother covered her son's ears. _Oh please, like you never curse_, he thought as he glared at her. It appeared that his plane had finally reached the terminal. And Mike still hadn't picked up…Terry thought about his options as he boarded the plan. His Google Maps showed that Kings County wasn't too far from Atlanta. Maybe he could leave the hick town that was Panama City for another hick town. Or he could continue on the mission that Michonne sent him on and seek out this Rosita. He recalled the many times she was on TV, thinking to himself that she only landed roles because of her pretty face. Was this beautiful woman the reason why a simple case wasn't so simple? Terry sighed and looked at the window, trying to avoid a conversation with a man next to him who wore crumbs as a part of his shirt.

-00000000-

Rick didn't look only in his rearview member to continue being the safe driver that he was. He also had to look in the mirror and remind himself of who he was. He was a sheriff. A friend. A father. _A husband_. Looking at other women never bothered him. Whenever he did, he would only glance for a second and get over it. Other women were just that – other women. Their appearance could not compare to the love he had for the woman he met in high school. Once they found each other, his young heart knew she was it. His whole being wrapped around her happiness and ensuring that he could provide for her. This was the person who helped define him. What could he be without her? His whole adult life involved her. She was there during all of his steps into the "real" world. Their parents agreed that their decision for her to be a stay at home wife was the right, traditional thing to do. Maybe that was why she was miserable? Why the hell was she so miserable? The more he drove, the more he got pissed off. She was so ungrateful for all of his efforts. Kings County didn't have much crime, but it had enough abusive episodes to make Rick run home and show her more love. If she only knew, if she only knew how good she had it.

He couldn't help but to think of that lawyer again. She seemed happy with whoever she was with. And, she was different. He never had a conversation with him, but it seemed he didn't need to. Maybe it was all in his mind, but he felt her presence call out to him every time she entered a room. He played with his ring at a stoplight. That was something he was doing more of. Abraham Ford's case needed to add soon. Hopefully when that came to an end, Michonne would leave also.

Shane and Daryl almost rushed him when he entered the precinct.

"M'ask you something," started Shane. "What if I told you we got the results?"

"Wha-" Rick didn't know what he meant.

Daryl continued, "the results. Wake up man, forensics finally sent us the lab results on Holly."

Rick's jaws clenched. "Okay, well, what is it." That's when he noticed his partners were holding shotguns.

"That weird ass mother fucker we met the other day? Well, his shit was all over the place." Shane explained.

Rick pinched the bridge of his nose. Getting Randall, the kid who stole from Martinez, was not a priority at that moment. "Ain't that some shit, Abe's best friend killed his wife and was gonna let him rot in prison for it."

Shane handed him a shotgun. "Yea, there's some fucked up people out there."

"Another thing," added Daryl. "Abraham's lawyer has been calling. She said she's going right to where we're headin' now. We tried to tell her not to, but she said we shoulda' been investigated this, and she 'got this'".

Rick heavily heaved. "Fuck, let's go!" They ran to their patrol cars; Shane riding with him as usual, and Daryl in his own. "This is fucking unbelievable!"

"Yea, I wanted to arrest him when we saw him, but there was no good reason to," agreed Shane.

"No," Rick corrected. "I just saw that lawyer at least an hour ago at Martinez', and she didn't say anything about this. Why the fuck would she put herself in danger like that?!"

Shane stared at his partner. "Why was she over there?"

"I don't know. Maybe investigating the case. Maybe, if she let us talk to her client more instead of cock-blocking our every move, this shit wouldn't be happening! Maybe, we would be just driving over there to pick up a suspect, instead of having to probably save her ass!"

Shane rubbed his head. "Yea, she stepped outta bounds with this one. But I ain't gonna lie, that's the type of woman I like. And she's sexy as hell, doesn't seem like the damsel in distress type. I bet she-"

"She's taken. She's with someone. And they seem happy," Rick interrupted.

-00000000000-

Michonne patiently waited after knocking on the door. This area looked shady as ever. No, it looked lonely. It had to be the type of place hermits and social outcasts retreated after fulfilling their societal duties at work. Those must have been the only places where they showed their face. She wondered how a vibrant personality such as Abraham's became close buddies with a person who lived in an apartment building like this. She also wondered if he knew this guy was screwing around with his woman on the side. Men could avoid this type of drama if they just kept it in their pants.

"Who is it?" asked a gruff voice from behind the door.

"Ms. Gibson. I'm a friend of Abraham's."

The door was yanked open, only to be restricted by a door chain. "I'm Abraham's friend, and I don't know you."

She gave a seemingly genuine smile. "Well, that's because we just met. I'm his attorney and wanted to know if you could help with the case?"

Eugene looked at the floor, and then up at her. "It would be against my best interests to discuss this matter with you. Now if you'll excuse me-"

Her foot got in the way of him shutting the door. "Mr. Porter, would you want to see your friend go away for life for something he didn't do? I'm sure he has helped you out in the past. We're talking about a man's life here." Her huge eyes widened with sorrow as they dug into his smaller ones. Eugene looked at the floor once again. She was losing him. "I already spoke to Rosita."

"Come in," he welcomed as he undid the chain.

-00000000-

"Is this tha car?" Daryl's eyes were making love with the black BMW.

Shane rolled his eyes. "I didn't think you were into shiny things."

Daryl moved his hands off of it quickly. "No, fuck no! I ain't into it." He almost blushed. He really wasn't materialistic, but that thing was beautiful. "I think this is the lawyer's car, and it's still hot. She might be in there."

"Okay," Rick nodded. "Shane and I are gonna go first. Daryl, I need you right behind us. It's obvious that this prick is dangerous from how he killed Mrs. Ford. Back-up is on the way. Let's do this ASAP, and don't shoot unless you know for sure that the lawyer is not in the way."

His partners nodded in agreement. They knew this was a potential hostage situation. It wasn't brought up, because it would only add tension to already screwed up circumstances. Their only negotiator left town months ago for a better paying position in Atlanta. So did many of their police force. The SWAT team decreased in size because many of them believed they should have tanks like some neighboring communities. Rick objected, stating that the police force doesn't need to use military force on citizens. Besides, Kings County was not likely to get hit by terrorist attacks. DA Glenn Rhee and the Mayor Maggie Rhee agreed with him, but there were still objectors. Rick's marriage was shaky. Rick's leadership was continuously questioned. No matter what, he knew his boys were there to back him up, and the DA and mayor weren't too far behind.

Some of the lonely neighbors peaked their heads out as Rick's heavy hands banged on the door. "Eugene Porter, it's the Sherriff, OPEN UP!" he bellowed.

There was nothing. The men masked worry on their face, covered it with looks that were ready for war. He banged on the door again, shouting out the same commands. "If you don't open," he continued, "we will knock this door down!" The door swung open. A TV flickered on the side of the living room – apparently Eugene never upgraded to the digital world. The men silently moved in the small space. The kitchen area was more of continuation of the living room. Paper was scattered on the floor, and there was some broken glass. The officers looked at each other – there was obviously a struggle. Rick motioned for the other two to follow behind him in the short hallway.

"Sherriff?" A woman's voice called out. It was so low he could hardly hear it. Rick's heartbeat increased in tempo. He wouldn't forgive himself if she was dead, and he could have somehow prevented it. Somehow? He wasn't sure, but as head of the police force, he always felt responsible.

His shotgun lead the way as he turned the corner into the bedroom. The two people he came there for were on bare mattress in a dusty room. Eugene was face down, drool dripping from his unconscious face. One of his eyes was swollen and black. He looked like a used up piñata.

Michonne sat with her knees up to her chest. Her designer clothes weren't disheveled, her hair wasn't out of place. The only things missing were her shoes, which sat at the foot of the bed. "All I came here to do was ask him some questions," she narrated as she stared in front of her. "He thought that opened the door for him to attack me." Now she turned to look at three officers, but her eyes buried into Rick's. "Or, he thought he could attack me. He threw a glass bottle at me. I dodged it. Then he chased me back here, but I apparently handled it."

"Why didn't you let us handle it?" Rick asked. Shane was grinning the whole time, but Daryl was unnerved.

"You mean, why didn't I let you come here first? I wasn't sure that you all were really investigating this case. My client could have gone down for a crime he did not commit." She stood up and bent to pick up her shoes, he rear pointing in their direction. Rick gulped. "I do anything for my clients, especially when they're innocent."

"Of course you'd say that. But you don't know if he's innocent. You're batshit crazy to come out here and pull a stunt like that! What if you got killed?" Daryl wasn't as mystified as Rick. Shane tried to hide a chuckle. He couldn't believe this actually went down.

Michonne looked at the unconscious man on the bed. "If he was innocent, then why are you three here with shotguns? Also, I wasn't gonna get killed. Not today. Excuse me." They parted out of her way so she could pass, but Rick grabbed his arm.

"We have to make a report of this."

She yanked her arm back. "No, we don't."

Her hips swayed as she walked away. Rick's eyes followed the rhythm that they made, until she finally left the door. _That woman can't be real_. "Yea, I'd want to tear that ass up too," Shane's whisper in his ear brought Rick back to reality. Another person noticed how he watched Michonne. This was happening way too often. This case needed to end…

-00000000-

Someone picked up the phone, but no one said anything for a few seconds. Terry tensed as he heard nothing but air.

"Mike!" he screamed.

"Oh, Terry! It's my boy Terry! Didn't I tell y'all about Terry? Yea, that's my ace right there!" Despite his enthusiasm, Terry could tell Mike was groggy.

"Hey, dumbass! I've been trying to reach you for a minute!"

"You have? But I got missed calls saying you called hours ago. It's like, dude, what the fuck, couldn't you tell I was busy?"

_"He was busy asshole!" _someone's voice screeched from the background.

"And I texted you," Terry continued.

"You did?"

"I did."

"Dude, I thought we established this years ago, I don't go that way."

Terry felt his temperature rise. "Listen, you dumbass prick, Michonne is in danger. Stop smoking or doing whatever the fuck you are doing, and call her. Try to figure out where she is at. She won't tell me a thing, but be her man and handle this!"

Mike chuckled. "N^$%* please! She's Michonne! She whooped my ass before! She is not in danger!" Mike hung up, and then looked at his watch. He had to pick up Andre in a few hours. It was definitely his routine sober time.

Meanwhile, Terry contained himself from throwing his precious Galaxy on the ground. He tried to gather himself and fixed the clothes he was wearing. A woman opened the door, her face beaming with a smile.

"Come in," she welcomed. "Terry?"

"Yes, and you're the lovely Tara," he kissed her cheek. "I definitely want more insight from you about my new magazine!"


	7. Chapter 7

**_Thanks to everyone for reading and reviewing! As always, please know that I own no part of The Walking Dead or AMC._**

**_Midnights-AM-Child: _**_Thanks for finding and reviewing this story! I have no idea why it doesn't show up on the general search (that's probably why you're just finding it), even with filters for Michonne and M ratings. I wanted to build up the family dynamics on both sides before, well, before destroying them in a sense. Wow, I suddenly feel evil._

**_kimyso:_**_ Thanks for the complements! Speaking of…not too many people who are pro-Richonne find Lori attractive, I'm starting to see. Then again, not too many TWD fans liked her anyway. I guess her personality sucked just that much. Who was that woman with Mike? hmmmmm_

**_literaturechick:_**_ As always, thanks for your reviews! Some of the questions that you have about Mike are answered in this update. To be determined if Mike would keep his own son safe, or allow his addiction to take precedence. Confession: I always loved Shane's character, even though he transformed into "Full Shane" and got himself killed on the show. If I can put him in a story, I try my best to do so. On your comments about Lori's actions leading to her losing Rick – read more._

**Chapter 7: No Obligations**

"Your place is giving me life," exclaimed Terry. He wasn't putting on. He was genuinely enjoying the warm colors of his host's small condo and the postmodern abstract artwork displayed on her walls. "Girl, I'd need a wife to hook up my house like this!"

She blushed. "Thank you. It's not much actually."

"Well that's the thing. There are so many people I know who think they have to use so much to make their house stand out. But you got it all figured out. And it's so sunny in here."

Tara moved a loose strand of hair behind her ear. A slight giggle escaped her mouth. "I love sunshine and just want to bring it in. But enough about me and my amateur interior decorating. Let's discuss what you're here for."

Terry's smile overtook his face. "Right." He pulled out a portfolio. "I call this 'Pride', but if you have a better suggestion, I'm open to hearing it. It's a magazine about the LGBT community in Atlanta and surrounding areas."

"Hmmm…what makes it different from any other publications like it? We have plenty of it."

Terry smirked. His BS factor got him into this woman's house, and he did a pretty good job of flirting with her. Maybe he could just get to the point. "Tara, you seem like such a knowledgeable person, but I'm not really here for that."

"Oh," the ever-present sunniness dimmed from her face. "I don't take too well to allowing people in my house under false pretenses. You can leave now."

He tried to not burst into laughter. He could see right through her toughness to see what only reminded him of Hello Kitty. "I wouldn't either, but I don't know how well I'd sleep at night if I knew a man could get the death sentence or life for something he wasn't a part of."

Her eyes instantly watered. "I, I don't know what you're talking about."

"Honey, yes you do. I could go to the tabloids and expose your boss for having an affair with an alleged killer, while sleeping with his best friend. Or, she could just help this man that she supposedly loves and minimize the amount of negative press she'd get."

"You don't know that."

"I don't, but I can tell that you're not the type of person who is okay with all of this."

Her hardened gaze fell from him. She looked upon her feet, which were shuffling while she was sitting.

-00000000000-

What she did not admit to the officers was that there actually was a small struggle. Eugene was a heavy man who did not know how to defend himself, but he most definitely was a _heavy_ man. Punching him was similar to jamming her fist into a ham hock. She massaged her knuckles after locking her door behind her.

"Hey honey, I'm home," she let out. It was an inside-joke-greeting she shared with Mike. They had upbringings that were far from perfect, and considered announcements such as the one she just did to be _corny_. The truth of the matter was, those type of greetings were the ones that they wanted every day of their life. The wanted the television suburbia to be in their home. Or, that's what Michonne thought they agreed upon.

"Hello?"

It was more quiet than usual. The TV was pitch black in the living room. Her lover was not conjuring up a new "Mike Special" in the kitchen. Her favorite men were not running about in the backyard. She cautiously walked up the stairs. It was rare for them to be in the sleeping areas of the house at this time. She knew that Mike tried to stay as active as possible to get away from his thoughts. And there they were…

Andre had massacred his room with toilet paper. This is what any three year old would have done, given the opportunity. Mike had given him full freedom. He was laid out on his son's floor. Michonne wished his drool was blood. She kicked at him, but he didn't nudge. The rage burned inside of her, something she hadn't felt in so long. It terrified her. The last time this feeling had maximized, she pulled a knife out on him.

She picked up her son and stormed downstairs. As she did, her cell rang.

"Michonne?"

"He-, hey Terry."

"I'm glad I caught you! I got Rosita to take a visit to King's County this Monday! She's willing to talk to you about that Abraham case!"

"That's great." Michonne turned on the TV and put on Sesame Street reruns.

"Michonne…" he could tell something was up. There was an utter lack of enthusiasm in her voice. "Did he…?"

"If you suspect it, what more is there to say?"

He hated the defeat in her voice. He wasn't going to add to her misery by adding the strange phone conversation he had with Mike earlier. No, telling her some woman was laughing in the background would just drive her to a dark place. "You don't always have to put up with it."

"I gotta go. Thanks for being the best private eye I could ever find." She hung up before he could continue.

-0000000000-

"…So that's when I knew I should have my own car."

Rick chuckled. "Is that right? After walking, on your own for a few days, you think you should graduate to a car? Lori, do you hear this?"

She pranced around the kitchen while burping Judith. "Yes, I hear this comedy."

"I know I need a license. I know I'm not old enough, either. I'm just saying, when the time comes, I hope you two are ready," continued Carl.

Rick replied, "I love how ready you are for the future, but you'll have to earn a car first."

"Right," Carl's mother added. "That means improving those grades for once, and keeping them better."

"Mom, I only had one 'C'," Carl protested. "Dad?"

Rick laughed, but stopped once he noticed Lori's glares. "Yes, your mom is right. You know failure is not an option. Now get to your homework."

Carl lurched upstairs to his room. Rick pinched his nose, readying himself for his time to be chastised.

"How in the world does he think a 'C' is okay? He is way too smart for that. I just wish he would apply himself more."

"You're right," Rick agreed. His dad always taught him "happy wife, happy life". "He'll learn baby, I'm sure of it. Hey, I've been thinking." He wanted to change the subject as soon as possible before encountering venom. "Did you ever consider doing something outside of the house?"

"Well, honey, you know I'm a part of the PTA, volunteer with the church, the Republican Women's Council…"

He stopped her before she continued, "no. Babe, I meant have you ever considered working?"

"Oh." Her face froze.

"I ask because I'm not sure if you're just happy with just, you know…"

"Being a housewife?"

"Yea."

"That sounds ridiculous. You should know how I feel about that. A woman's place is to secure the household and make sure everything is where it should be. I do what I'm supposed to, to make sure we have a home and not a house."

"Okay."

"I mean, have you ever seen how these working mothers live? They often end up divorced, because they are too selfish to just let the man handle what he needs to do. "

Rick grimaced. Lori knew pretty well that many of his female relatives were working women, but…whatever. "Lori, are _you_ happy?"

She placed Judith on the floor so she could crawl, and began to play with the ends of her hair. "Why would you ask that?"

"Are you?"

The question seemed to perplex her. Her eyes darted as if she lost track of where she actually was. "Butter, that's right. I have to get butter so I can get dinner together. I'll be back." She rushed out.

Rick sat at the table and picked up Judith after she tugged on his pants leg. He might have figured out the cause of his wife's misery. Sadly, there was probably nothin' he could do about it. She needed to figure out who she was on her own.

-000000000-

Andre had gotten enough energy from Michonne that day. She could not deny that reverting back to being a child was not worth it. They had played on the swings together, ran together in the monkey gym, and other exhausting activities that temporarily relieved her of any thoughts of home. This was what she needed in order to focus on her cases, her son, and maybe even herself. The tired mother sat on a bench and watched her son turn his attention to a new playmate. His innocence was what she lived for, until… She knew he was not always going to be this bubbly and pure entity of wonder. One day, he will join the league of nightmares called teenagers. Her love would never change for him. Nonetheless, she would do all that she could to ensure he wouldn't have his father's _ways_.

"I didn't expect to find you here." Michonne looked up to see Officer Grimes standing with a blonde baby girl in his arms. The girl squirmed to wiggle out, to which he obliged with a smile. Michonne squirmed as well. She was not in the mood for this man, not today.

"Officer," she returned.

"You mind if I sit?"

"It's a free country," she replied with the cliché.

"It's a beautiful day, isn't it?"

Michonne tried to control her eyes from rolling at the generic small talk that was about to form. "Yeah, yes it is. Perfect day for the park."

"Any of these tikes yours?" They were sitting in the designated toddler section of the playground.

She couldn't help but smile a bit when even slightly talking about her peanut. "Yes, the little one with the big head who's running on the bridge. That's my Andre."

Rick returned her smile. "Well you just saw my boss, my little Judith."

Michonne chuckled. "I see, she didn't need words to let you know that she was ready to go."

He grinned. "Yes, that might be everyday life. I want her to be daddy's girl, but even if she will be, I think she'll be too independent to be bored with me all of the time. I sometimes think her brother is ready to move out of the house, and he can't even drive yet."

"That's funny. Where I grew up, you didn't need cars. A lot of kids who wanted to would just find a way and move if they felt the urge strong enough."

Rick looked at his adversary to see she was staring off to somewhere beyond the park. "You mind if I ask where that was."

"Oh, a little bit of New York, a little bit of Atlanta, a little bit of other…places." _Why am I telling this man all of this_? "Anyway, I figured King's County would be a nice place to raise a child."

The more she spoke, the more Rick was intrigued. Her story might have not been that different from many others. She could have been an army brat. She could have been something else. Whatever she was, he felt lucked out on that day to learn more about _her_. "I guess it's all right. You don't have to duck your head once you step outside from bullets flying."

Michonne arched her head back. "Oh, now that, that is pure bull. Shit happens everywhere, and it's not always dangerous in big cities. Besides, I wouldn't have a job here if this place was utopia."

Rick laughed, "I'm sorry if I offended you."

"No, it takes a lot to offend me."

"Well, nonetheless, you and your husband," he glanced quickly to see there was no ring on her finger, but it was too late, "seem pretty happy to be here."

Michonne's eyes darkened and she averted his gaze. "Right, same for you and your wife."

_Okay, maybe her home isn't as perfect as I thought_. "Hey, I was wondering, where in the world did you learn how to fight off someone as huge as Eugene?"

"He wouldn't be considered huge to a man, but obviously for a woman he would be?"

"Once again, I apologi-"

"It was a joke." Michonne watched as he blushed. "Anyway, I learned from living, let's put it that way."

Rick blinked as he thought back to the conversation they had about this woman. He began to play with his wedding band, to which Michonne noticed.

"Andre and I have been here for a few hours now. He might not realize it, but he might be tinkered out. It was nice speaking to you."

She began to grab her and her son's belongings. Rick wanted to reach for her wrist. He had to think of something. "I don't take Judith to the playground often."

"Excuse me?" Michonne was already standing.

"I don't take her out as often as I should. I'm so dedicated to my job, to protecting this county, that I feel like I'm letting down my children, my wife. But then again, I take them out, do thangs, and it's still not enough."

"Why are you telling me this?"

Rick was not even sure himself. "If you could just stay here for a lil while? I'm not used to being the only adult in a playground."

Michonne smirked. "You and I cannot be friends, Officer Grimes. I defend the people that you want locked away."

Rick exhaled and rubbed his cleanly shaved chin. "That's true. Look, I don't think your son wants to go yet." As if on cue, Andre let out a yell of joy. "We don't have to be friends."

Michonne looked at her son, who was indeed not ready to go. She also did lie ~ they had only been there for 45 minutes. However, she was not born yesterday. She noticed the way Officer Grimes looked at her from day one. She noticed that, in the hidden depths of her soul, she was attracted to him also. She wasn't sure what was going on in his marriage, but knew for sure that Mike was heading down a dark path that she was tired of travelling alongside of. Rick did not know that he visit to the playground wasn't just for her little one. It was for her to figure out if she should send Mike to another rehab, kick him out, or just ignore his recent behavior as a slip up. Just talking with another man could be dangerous territory, because she was getting to the point of not caring about her relationship. _She was getting to the point of not caring…_

"Fine, as long as you know that was are not friends," she replied.


	8. Chapter 8

**_AN: _**_My muse for this is my favorite author Toni Morrison (I can never write as poetic as she has, however). There will be a lot of back and forth in this. The other muse is Goyte's "Heart's a Mess"._

_I'm keeping my anger from the show out of this. See no evil, hear no evil. I took a little hiatus because of life, but I never forgot about yall. Will update the other fics as soon as possible. _

**_Thanks everyone for your following/favoriting, reading, and reviews! Shout-outs to: Code-NameM.e., jollybelucky, Summersnights, Midnights-AM-Child, severelybabykryptonite, &amp; literaturechick, itscalledkarma._**

**Chapter 8: Monday, Funday**

Her level of agitation continued to rise. He had to have checked his gold watch as each minute passed. She was trying to stay patient, but that really wasn't easy with this man. It took all that was in her to not nudge her husband.

"And that is basically what I am here for, to help guide you both to communicating with each other and to do what is best," concluded Aaron as he leaned forward in his leather recliner.

"Best includes the possibility of a divorce," Lori inquired.

Their therapist's constant smile dissipated as he looked at Rick for a clue. Rick simply shook his head in response. The man showed no shock at his wife's question, but the pain was tangible. Nonetheless, Aaron did not reveal all of his thoughts to the couple.

"Well, the fact that you're both here could mean that you don't want that to happen. Let's put divorce as the last choice that you have. Rick, how do you feel about her asking that question," asked Aaron.

Rick cocked his head to the side. "Why would we be here if I wanted a divorce? Why would I do half the things I do, if this marriage wasn't important to me?"

_Michonne's long legs eased in to a crossed position. He noticed her every movement and fought the urge to lick his lips. It was impossible how sexy she could be in just short sweats in, of all places, a playground. The sun exploded onto her toned brown skin. She didn't need to try in order to exude the Eclipse of her very presence. Her arms crossed to show that she was still on guard, but she couldn't help but to smile each time her eyes set on Andre. Judith brought the same out of him. In a sense, he was tense as well. At the same time, he was magnetized to her._

_"Well, you have me at your attention Officer Grimes. Now what?"_

Aaron asked, "What is your response to that, Lori?"

She began to stroke her long brown hair, the same hair that initially drew Rick's attention so many years ago. "You know, he does what he's supposed to. He goes to work. He supports me and the kids. He does all of this and goes the extra mile. But truthfully, I don't think he does it because he wants to. He does it because he has to."

Rick scoffed. "That's ridiculous. I don't get the point of a marriage if people don't try to make each other happy, if they don't care what the other person is going through. I don't do thangs that might be a waste of my time."

Aaron contemplated, "okay, so it seems you both are probably looking at what's going on here differently. Lori, you think Rick is just doing his duty. And Rick, you're saying you're doing it because…"

"Because I want to and I love her," Rick looked towards her wife's eyes, to which her face darted away.

_The more he caught himself staring intently at her, the more he realized that she did not run away from the intensity. She would just challenge him back. It was terrifying and yet so intriguing. If he could crawl into her soul and hide there from the rest of the world, he probably would. Something told him that she would do the same vice versa. They weren't friends, they were supposed to be enemies. Here they were, sitting with their children in nearly comfortable silence as if that was all just fine. She began to rub her svelte shoulder, and he had to ball a fist to resist the urge to help her. _

_"Andre seems so relaxed down here. It might be a temporary stay, but if we like it well enough, this may just be our home."_

_Rick played with his ring. "Does your husband feel the same?"_

_Hurt swept over her face, which she quickly forced away with an uptight smile. "He's, ahem, not my husband."_

Packing clothes was usually handled in a calm and meditative way. Michonne always wanted to ensure that her precious belongings were protected and cherished. Today, these weren't her things. They were all jumbled up in black garbage bags and multicolored laundry bags. Her best friend Andrea had driven into town to help with the overnight coup.

"When was the last time you saw him," queried the blonde as cuddled Andre. She hadn't questioned much before her drive, but knew her friend needed her help in doing something she longed for her to do.

Michonne pushed a bag down the stairs. "Friday. The idiot started using again. I found him laid out on the floor, and Andre in the middle of a mess. I told him that we **have **to do rehab again. And of course, that rat bastard is nowhere to be found."

Andrea could feel Andre's drool begin to descend down her shirt. She rubbed his head as she gently laid him in his toddler's bed. She walked back to the landing to find her bestie kicking bags down the stairs.

"What are you gonna do now, Mish? We packed this all up, but you know he's gonna try to come back." She patted her shoulders.

"I know, I know." She deeply inhaled and rubbed her forehead to calm her nerves. "Terry will be here tomorrow. I told him he could pick up his things and to please tell him he's not welcome here. But, I thought this…I fooled myself into thinking that we were better. That if I took him out of that environment, he'd do better. And he was! I knew better, but I just got stupid and ignored the truth." Michonne collapsed on the top stair, and buried her face into her knees. Her long dreads hung so far over that they touched the floor.

"Ah Mish," Andrea felt her tears fall as she saw her strong friend fault herself. She sat beside the sobbing Michonne, holding her close. "You're not stupid, you only tried. He's the father of your child. It's not just as easy as breaking up with some random guy. And you loved him. But if anyone is to blame, it's him. Who needs to use drugs when they have a beautiful family? Mike fucked up, not you." Michonne nodded through her heaving shoulders. "But please, please don't let him back in. If you do that, I'll drive back just to kick your ass."

Michonne looked up. The friends momentarily smiled at each other and then burst into laughter.

-0000000000-

Andrea knew that if she drove quickly enough, she'd get to Atlanta by the morning. Funding for ACLU had slightly declined. She loved doing the work she did, helping those who couldn't afford their own counsel and needed a voice. At the same time, she had many bills to be paid. She hadn't told anyone that this Monday would be a job-seeking Monday. Unfortunately, fate had other plans for her.

She had just bought her used car that Friday. It drove smoothly until she neared the county line and sputtered conveniently. Andrea drove into the nearest gas station while the engine rapidly overheated. She stepped out, kicking the car in a mild and controlled rage. As she cursed to herself, she whipped out her phone to call Michonne.

"Looks like you need a little help," a handsome man probed as he approached.

Andrea rolled her eyes a bit, reminding herself of where she kept her mace. "No, I got this. I'm sure my friend will help." The phone rang with no reply. _Dammit, she must be asleep!_

"Hmmm, it seems your car is overheated," examined the stranger.

_No shit_. "Yes, that's why I stopped."

"Look, I know you probably don't want help from a stranger. I wouldn't advise a woman to at night either. But we're right by the woods." Andrea simply gave him the look of indifference. "I'm a judge, so I wouldn't try anything anyway."

"I'll take my chances." She began to Google the nearest hotels and tow truck companies, only to see the data signal was simply nonexistent. Her sigh was engorged in frustration. "I want you to know I am packing and I have mace, so if you try anything…"

"Okay, okay. I get it," he chuckled. "My name is Phillip Blake, by the way."

-000000000000-

"We met while we were in high school. I had to be Rick's second girlfriend."

Aaron smiled, thinking that was cute but probably the origin of their problems. "Did you have any experience before him?"

Rick expectantly looked at Lori, curious as to what answer she'd give the counselor.

She nervously rubbed her earlobes. "No, not at all. We were practically each other's first at everything." She finished her sentence with twirling her hair. Andre pondered if the husband was desensitized to her nervous ticks.

"Okay, your marriage is based off of being high school sweethearts, which is great. But I need you to focus on why you have stayed married for all these years. Think of the positives. What is it about your significant other that keeps you around? Rick…" he started with Rick because he knew Lori would instinctively start out negatively. "Can you please tell Lori why you are content with her being your wife?"

Rick held her hand and turned towards her. "I don't know where I would be without you. You're the mother of my children. My rock. You make me happy in more ways than one." _Or I wish you'd make me happy like you used to, without bickering about every damn thing I do_. That thought made Rick look down as he contemplated the rest of his reasons. He didn't look back up at her for the rest of his speech; something that Aaron noticed. "You're my best friend, my light, the reason I wake up in the morning. I do all that I can to make you happy, because if you're not, I'm not. I know you do the best you can to make sure the house is in order…I just want you to be happy again, like you used to. If the house is a little messy, it doesn't mean there needs to be a meltdown. I love you for the carefree person you used to be. I'm always trying to fix us, but you have to let me in to do it." He glanced back up to Lori. She slid her hand from his and gently rubbed it while her eyes darted elsewhere.

_"I thought you were married."_

_"Did you notice any ring on my finger?"_

_Rick shook his head no, but in all honesty it was one of the first things he noticed. "Why in the world would he wait? A man should know when he's lucky."_

_He might have not noticed how much she blushed. "People have their reasons, Officer Grimes. If it's meant to happen, then it happens. I'm sure you and your wife did what's best when you decided to jump the broom."_

_"The broom?"_

_Michonne chuckled and he joined in. "You know what I mean."_

_"It was the best thang to do, I guess. If I didn't do that, my kids wouldn't be here."_

_Michonne thought of this man's values, some of which probably directly contrasted hers. She knew that if Mike didn't show up by tomorrow, he was going to be out the door. The sheriff didn't realize it, but he was sharing a bench with a very vulnerable woman who was starting to notice his attractiveness. She stiffened at the epiphany._

_"We're going to see a marriage counselor on Monday." He played with his ring. "Usually it's the woman who calls for one, but no, it was me."_

_Michonne's eyes almost matched the watery gloss that glazed over his. He was a good man to his significant other, just like her, holding on to a rope slipping from their hands. She wanted to reach out to his. "Sherriff, I'm sorry to hear that. But I don't think I'm supposed to know about what's goi…"_

_Rick snickered. His celestial blue eyes stared deep into her. "Michonne, I can't really tell anyone else. There's my partners, but they're men. They _**know** _it's happening, but we don't always talk about it like I can with someone else."_

_Michonne scoffed. "I'm not a talker."_

_Rick agreed, "I've noticed."_

_"Have you ever heard of emotional cheating?"_

_Rick paused. "How is talking to you cheating?"_

_"We're not friends."_

_"This is true," Rick smiled. "You look like you need to talk as well."_

_"Hmm, but I do have friends. Women talk about their problems."_

_Rick nodded. He really didn't know what he was trying to get from Michonne and why he needed to be around this mysterious woman. He just knew he desired to. It could be a mid-life crisis. Or, it could just be that he was tempting fate as he realized he was at the end of his rope. _

_"I would never cheat on my wife, but I need a female _friend_ around to just check me if I do the wrong or right thang."_

_The lawyer smirked as their children screeched in joy. "You need a lesbian friend."_

_"What?"_

_"I have a gay friend for all of that. As a matter of fact he just told me to…nothing…I should be going now."_

_Rick knew he was lucky to have her around for this long in the playground. "He told you to do something you needed to do?"_

_Michonne blinked tears back. "The hardest things to do are a catharsis, but they have to be done in order to be done. My grandmother always told me to not be afraid of change because it means a new beginning." She started off her little speech to encourage Rick a bit, but realized the end was meant for her, as it always had. She looked at him, this man who was somehow getting under her skin one Saturday afternoon when they shouldn't even be in the same circles. She cleared her throat, "anyway, do what you have to for your marriage. You married for a reason. It can't just be about the children either. It has to be about you and her. Once you have given all you can give, what much else there is to do but to be at peace with whatever decision you have to make? We can't make others return our efforts, and maybe they've done all they could do also. But being unhappy," she deeply sighed, "is not worth killing yourself over. There, your advice from an imperfect woman."_

_Rick knew lawyers lied, but she just made the most incredulous false statement ever. To him, she defined perfection. _

-00000000000000-

Rosita was simultaneously flattered and annoyed with how Deputy Dixon tried to mask his attraction to her as her handlers told him the purpose of her arrival. He stuttered several times while trying to portray a nonchalant attitude. Rosita smirked at the cuteness, but she wasn't there for fanfare. She arrived for some type of redemption.

The absence of Abe's smile struck her coldly in the center. She couldn't blame him. She never imagined that they'd have a conversation through the Plexiglas of a jailhouse.

"Abe," she began immediately as she picked up the phone.

"No, I really don't want to hear diddily squat. My wife…" his mind drifted to the image of stumbling into his room to seeing Holly's head, and how quickly his knees buckled once he got a clearer view of where the rest of her body was. "My wife didn't deserve that. We had our thing Rose, but I don't know who to trust. You didn't even come to see me when this shit went to hell, and now here you are, all princess-ed out as always. What the fuck do you have to say?"

"I'm, I'm sorry Abbie." She wore shades to mask the tears; her handlers refused to leave her alone in that environment. "I would have come, but…"

"But you didn't want to, because I'd eventually find out you were cumming for, of all fucking people, Eugene!"

Rosita's skin flushed in white, draining heat. "Abe, please, you gotta understand, you had your wife."

"He was supposed to be my best friend…what was Holly to you?"

It dawned on Rosita that their talk would mean nothing. What she needed to do involved action. "I'll make it up to you, I promise."

Abe spat at the floor as a reply.

Rosita tried to calm her nerves as she stepped out and called Michonne. "Yes, Terry gave me your number. I'm willing to testify on Abraham's behalf and will talk to the DA about Eugene."

-00000000000-

_"Rick, Sherriff, I'm sure I'll see you this Monday at work." Michonne had had enough. Their conversation was definitely too inappropriate for her to take._

_"I guess we will."_

_She almost leapt off of the bench to grab Andre, who was surprised by the sudden abduction from a slide. He kicked until his mother gently tickled him. She quickly walked to gather her belongings from the bench. Rick tried to quiet an erection that sprang from watching her powerful her hips swayed when she was in a rush. _

_"Do you need any help?"_

_"No, no I'm good, thanks. Bye!" She turned to give him more of a view of the roundness of her backside. _

_"Damn," he mumbled. He twirled his ring again. Right now would be a good time for Martinez to talk in his ear. _

-00000000000000000-

The heels slammed against the floor, announcing her presence. Rick already knew it had to be her. With great shame, he managed to memorize the sound of her gait during the few times she visited the precinct. He wanted to pinch himself for that, but the morning's session with Aaron hadn't encouraged his monogamy. Lori didn't have much positive attributes to award Rick with. She said he was good in bed, was a good provider, and tries too hard…_that was it_.

Michonne's hips swayed past Shane, who she quickly said good morning to as she steam rolled past him. Shane obliged with one eyebrow raised. He then looked at Rick, who he knew was looking, and winked. Rick grimaced and pretended to concentrate on barely there paperwork.

"Officer Grimes," came her sultry voice.

"Oh, good morning Michonne."

She stiffened at him calling her by first name at work. "I'm here to see my client, Abraham Ford."

"Yes, sure." He beckoned for her to follow him to the visiting area for attorneys and inmates. As they walked alone in a hallway, he couldn't help himself. "How are you?" _She has to be doing great, wearing a dress like that._

"Fine, you?"

"Fine. How's your son Andre?"

_Good God, he's remembering names now!_ "Officer Grimes…"

"I know, we're not friends. But even acquaintances make small talk."

"He's happy as always. Judith?"

"The same."

He stopped at the door for the private room, hesitating while taking in her sight. Michonne shifted, knowing that he was and realizing how more handsome he seemed now that she opened up to seeing that he was a person. The tension reached down between her legs, where she imagined he might use those perfect lips perfectly. Those were thoughts she didn't need, especially in light of what happened earlier that morning.

"Rick, can you open the door?"

"Yes." He did so without taking his eyes off of her.

-0000000000000-

Michonne walked out to her car as quickly as possible. She usually encouraged her son to walk, but carried him after realizing Mike's car. Her movements weren't fast enough.

"Michonne, we need to talk," he pleaded.

"No, you son of a bitch." She buckled up Andre in his car seat, feeling vulnerable with time ticking.

"Baby, I have to explain. You're intimidating as shit, and sometimes it scares me that I'm not good enough for you."

"Whatever, I'm not trying to hear you. You need to go to rehab, or something. Terry has your things, I'm through with you." She slammed her son's door and moved past Mike, who was trying to block her path. He grabbed her arm. "No," she yanked it back. "You can't ever touch me!"

He nearly slapped her in the face, something he never did before. She reacted quickly enough to parry it, subsequently kneeing him in his most sensitive area. She hopped in her car, not caring if she ran over him as she backed out.

-000000000-

They both walked into the room. The hairs on her body stood in an edgy attention. She could feel him breathing right behind her as the door closed.

"Rick," she said as she turned around to see there was not much space between them.

"Michonne."

"What, what is going on here?"

He shook his head. "I don't know, but I can't stop thinking of you. I don't know why, but I want you."

She backed to the wall, only with him following her steps. "You're married."

His face was only centimeters for her. Every breath she inhaled, he exhaled. "She doesn't love me."

"What about my situation, what if…"

He moved in to press his lips against hers, knowing that whatever she had to say didn't matter. He just wanted deal in the here and the now, not the lies that they had going on in the outside. He could sense her matching sadness, her fight to keep alive a sinking ship. At this point, all he wanted to do was live inside of her, a woman whose beauty was uncompromised and whose mind would shake the average man to his knees. Rick wanted to mold his grief with hers into his own sanctuary, drink her tears and anything else her body had to give.

She resisted at first, but finally allowed his tongue to enter. Their kisses weren't necessarily sensual. It was more of a battle between two warriors on the wrong sides. His hands first drifted to her neck, next to her perky breasts, and ultimately under her dress where he patted her panties. "Oh my God," she moaned into his mouth. His fingers vibrated against the silk, until she finally yelped.

His tongue played with her earlobe. "Think about me, Michonne," he whispered. He slipped a small paper with his number on it in her bra, and patted her panties one more time for good measure.

He walked away and opened the door while she straightened out her dress. "Yes ma'am your client will be here shortly," he announced. Rick winked at her and walked off.

Michonne shuddered, knowing that she just fell down a rabbit hole. The worst part of it was Monday was just starting.


	9. Chapter 9

**AN: **I own nothing from The Walking Dead

_Thanks as always for the reviews! Only RL can keep me from updating, and it's been busy. Since it's been a while, here's a recap:_

_-Rosita told Michonne's P.I. that she'll testify on Abe's behalf_

_-Abe wasn't happy to find out that Eugene, the man who likely killed his wife Holly although they're best friends, was also sexually involved with his mistress Rosita_

_-Rick and Lori's marriage counseling with the counselor Aaron = epic FAIL_

_-Andrea helped Michonne pack Mike's stuff to kick him out because of a bad drug habit, and at late night bumped into the a mysterious man_

_-Michonne kicking Mike out made him into a jerk_

_-Michonne and Rick had an interesting conversation at a park_

_-but who saw Rick being a little *ahem* inappropriate with Michonne in the precinct coming?_

_Okay, on with the story_

**Chapter 9: **Who's Naughty?

"Hey hon, how is it going?"

Michonne hesitated in responding to Andrea's simple question. It was a question meant for small talk, but they both knew that at this time she was trying to gage if she needed to run back down to that small county in the middle of nowhere. She also knew she had to be patient for whatever response Michonne could come up with.

"You know, I…I really don't know right now. It's hard to say."

Andrea's blonde head nodded on the other line. "I understand. It's just one day at a time. You know I'm here for you. You were there for me since day one, especially when Amy-"

Michonne cleared her throat. "You, you really don't have to explain anything. We're sisters. I appreciate you helping me out. I really do."

There was momentary silence. The two women who agreed in high school to never be "mushy" just realized and had to digest how serious their friendship really was. Their paths were filled with trauma and some distrust with others, which hardened them to those who really mattered at times. Saying how much they cared about one another wouldn't be enough to encompass the magnitude of their bond, anyway.

"Well," Michonne continued. "Andre misses you already."

Andrea's voice perked up. "I miss my peanut too!"

"Yea, but you didn't call to let us know that you made it back to ATL. Terry hasn't heard from you either."

"Well," Andrea changed her tone, "I had some car trouble."

"Andrea!"

"But it worked out. I didn't want to worry you. A nice guy helped me out."

Michonne twirled in her maroon office chair in an attempt to quell growing anger. She lowly growled, "Andrea, you didn't stay at this man's house, did you?"

Silence.

"Okay, I got it, you're grown. I'm not your mother or anything, but-"

Andrea sighed, "I can read people pretty fine. You know I can take care of myself. Besides, he was a great guy. He was a judge for Pete's sake!"

Michonne croaked, "A judge?"

Andrea was oblivious to her reaction. "Yes, his name is Phillip. Pretty handsome too."

Michonne's head began to spin about how Andrea swooned over pretty handsome professional men who tended to be nice. Her phone also began to ring, with the Sherriff's department on line 1. "You know I'm a defendant attorney." _Ring ring ring_.

"What does that have to do with _my_ situation?" Andrea queried.

"Andrea." Line 2 began to ring from Rosita's cell phone. "I have to go. We're gonna need to finish this talk." She quickly hung up before her friend could protest. Suddenly, her right temple vein pulsated well enough to remind her that it existed. She pressed line one. "This is Michonne, please hold." _I need a damn secretary_, she cursed to herself. After pushing line two, she greeted, "This is Gibson."

"Ms. Gibson, its Rosita," was the response in a low whisper.

"Are you okay? Why are you whispering?"

Rosita sighed. "I am. I'm just hiding away from my handlers for a moment so that I can speak with you. I was wondering if I can come by your office later today to prepare for my statement."

Michonne nearly jumped out of her skin, but maintained a professional demeanor. "Terry informed me of your interest. Is 1pm okay?"

"Yes, I'll see you then."

"Don't you need my address?"

"Terry already gave it to me."

"Okay Ms. Espinoza. I'll see you later."

Michonne clicked off and gave herself a moment to exhale some of the stress that Abraham Ford's case had given her. Now, she had to deal with another stressor. A call from the Sherriff could mean many things. Either something bad happened to one of her clients, or it could have been about something else that occurred earlier that day.

"This is Gibson."

"Michonne." The way his Southern voice drawled out her name made everything in her freeze. Her toes curled in her pumps as she reminded herself to breathe. It was moments like this that made it perfect that she didn't have a secretary.

"Deputy Grimes." Her attempt at maintaining professionalism was somehow successful.

He paused for a moment, as if he was finding the ground beneath him as well. "I'm calling you to inform you that Eugene Porter requests for your service."

"Fuck no, that shit isn't happening! He better get a public defender!" She could hear slight chuckles on the other end. "Excuse me, I apologize for that outburst." She couldn't help but to laugh a little with him.

"It's understandable. My partners and I didn't think it was going to happen anyway."

They heard each other's breath. The tension was enough to make a phone line engorged in static.

Rick remarked, "You didn't call."

"About that..."

"It's probably good you didn't. I don't know what came over me yesterday, but it's done. It probably shouldn'ta happened that way though," he cleared his throat.

"You're not at your desk talking about this serious business, are you?"

"Um, no." He let out his adorable chuckle again. "I'm hiding out in the same spot that it, uh, happened." He left out the fact that he sat in that same from for 10 minutes until he could strike up the courage to call her.

Michonne tried to quiet the thoughts of his lips softly sucking on hers, his tongue ravaging hers, and of his hand that took over most hidden spot. She laughed to cover the enticing memories. "That would be a good spot to hide and talk about…something like this. Well, you did catch me by surprise." _He knew that, especially since he could feel her wetness through her silk panties._ "But it would make it harder to work with each other if we kept that type of behavior up." _He heard "hard", and "up". Michonne could lick her lips and he'd already be there. _She chortled again, "or work against each other." _He really wanted to rub up against her. _"So, I'm glad that you called so we could clear this all up." No, really she was glad just to hear his voice.

"Okay then, well I'll see you around then."

"Okay."

Rick banged his head as soon as he got off. While he cursed himself for cheating on his wife and being mad that he still wanted Michonne, Michonne gathered her purse to hurry to Naught Taughties and buy some _toys_ before Rosita's arrival. He knew that Shane was in his shoes, there would be no remorse or backtracking. However, he wasn't Shane. He was a (unhappily married) family man, who…who…who _wanted to fuck the shit out of Michonne_. He frustratingly grabbed his keys to drive home and use that frustration out on something.

-0000000000000000000000-

Michonne welcomed the two women into her small office. "Michonne Gibson," she extended her dainty but strong hand.

"Rosita Espinosa," Rosita returned as she returned the gesture. There was no make-up on the celebrity who wore Guess jeans and a T-shirt with sneakers. Her look, complimented with a loose ponytail, made her blend in quite well. "This is my assistant, Tara."

Tara was 20-something who was dressed just as relaxed as her boss. Her wide eyes scanned the place. "Nice to meet you. Your office doesn't look like it belongs here."

Michonne politely smiled. "A big city girl like me has to bring it with me wherever I go. Here, have a seat." She beckoned the two to a maroon couch, while she sat in a matching office chair.

-00000000000000000000000-

The drive didn't help calm his heat. He was trying to be good, because he was a good man. He was willing to put aside the letdown of the counseling session from yesterday if she was willing to. Lori hadn't spoken to him much since then. That was a blessing and a torturous reminder. Carl could sense the tension. He was too smart for his age. What used to come off as attitude was really a person reaching beyond his age. The moment Rick gave in to the way he was raised by getting his belt, Lori chaotically interrupted and reiterated how much she believed he did _not_ care about the family. _It was things like that…_ It didn't matter. All of the conflict, all of the disharmony, all of the lusting over another woman – Rick was about to put it to use.

He planned to slam the door on the way in, but changed his mind. A covert way of sneaking in would give more pleasure to his plans. The house was mostly quiet and clean. It was just past noon, and it seemed she got most of the chores she complained about out of the way. _Figures. _Her low voice directed him to the linen room. He didn't hear anyone else…What if he just snuck up on her, caress her neck with his tongue, and whisper for her to get off the phone? He slithered past the dining room, then the kitchen, and then…

She cackled. "No baby. No, I'm not the one who told you to do that. Haha, well, you did hit the spot."

_What the fuck?_

"Hmmmm, I only cum for you. No, that's just nasty. Okay, only for you."

Rick circled the island with his emotions escalating from rage to humor (the irony of the situation) to enlightenment. He could never do right by her. He kissed the ground she walked on. No matter what happened, no matter how he provided and attempted to make her feel special, she still had a special gift in making him feel less than shit. And here she was. Here she was, sexing with some man! Maybe it wasn't him. Perhaps, Lori was miserable because she just wasn't happy with the marriage and needed to…

"You should have called me earlier. Well, I have things I have to handle. Just keep my dick ready, that's all."

_Oh hell no, that's it!_

-000000000000000000000000-

Rosita was sitting with her back perfectly arched in an office chair. Tara watched on intently as Michonne circled the starlet. Rosita would routinely look to Michonne when a question was asked, but kept her main focus on the faux juror Tara.

"So, wouldn't Abe, the man who cheated on his wife to be with you, and stayed in the background while you became a big star, be upset upon finding out about you and his best friend?" Michonne's whole vibe was condescending.

Rosita looked to Tara, who simply nodded to encourage her. "As far as I know, Abe wasn't aware of that."

"We're supposed to believe you, a mistress?"

"You can give me any title you please, but it doesn't change the fact that Abe didn't know." Rosita's back arched more.

_Okay, okay_, thought Michonne. "A man who didn't mind betraying his wife and more than likely has PTSD from serving…isn't he the type that's prone to violent behavior?"

"Absolutely Not," Rosita looked square into Michonne's eyes.

"Okay Rosita. You've done pretty well with the opening and cross examination. If you have time tomorrow, we can resume this?" Tara scrolled her finger on a calendar in his smart phone. "Or if you're too busy, I understand. But I think this will work out."

Rosita stood and deeply respired. "I seriously hope so. Abe is a good man, you know. I don't want an innocent man to be locked away for something he didn't do." She glanced over to Tara. "I feel horrible for what happened to that woman."

Michonne's thoughts went to more gruesome cases where she actually wanted to lock up her client. "I think no matter what, there are no winners here."

Michonne let the ladies out and sat at her desk. Her heart wanted to rejoice in the possibility that Abraham Ford might become a free man, but she knew they were nowhere close to the finish line.

She played with the "M" dangling on her neck. Maybe the attraction to a person like Mike stemmed from a hero complex. She always saved someone, even if they were a derelict. Her parents, the imperfectly perfect people that they were, didn't even approve of him. No matter how sweet and caring he could seem, his truth came out when he couldn't take the façade anymore. After every few months or so, he'd put the drugs in front of her. She knew addiction was a disease. However, she was about through with him and the disease.

A pounding knock stirred her out of her deep thoughts. Her business was still a virgin in these parts. For a walk-in to spring up was a welcome. She jumped up from her seat, hoping that it was indeed a needy client who had enough to afford her.

She opened the door to an exasperated Rick.

"Rick, er, um, Deputy Grimes…?"

She stood in the doorway until he moved in without her permission and closed the door behind. "Michonne, I, um, I need to talk to you."

"Grimes, you couldn't have called?"

He paced her floor until she noticed how pale he seemed.

"Do you want a glass or water?" He continued to walk. "Please sit." She guided his arm until he finally complied with her request. "I'll be right back." She hurried to her kitchenette to grab him a glass. She watched as he gulped it down without pausing, then staring into a brick wall. "Breathe." His chest moved up and down. "Can you please tell me, what's wrong?"

He rubbed his eyes and pinched his nose. "She, she…I can't believe how foolish I've been all along." He looked at Michonne, her huge eyes focused in on him. He never saw her with her dreads down. Despite how radiant she looked, it didn't dent the shock. "All of these years, and, she's cheating on me." He couldn't look at her anymore and turned his attention to twisting her ring. "I could never make her happy. I don't know it if was me all along, or if she…I just don't know. What am I now? What am I if I can't even satisfy my wife?"

Michonne noticed the reddening of his eyes. This man was about to cry on her couch, right after pouring out his heart. Her hand drifted to his knee. Rick was catatonic until he felt her caress. He touched her hand and stared at her. Michonne couldn't take the silence and the force that were behind those blue eyes. He might have been in momentary misery at that moment, but she also had seen how they looked when hungry. She swallowed after an eternity.

"Rick, me saying sorry for what has happened helps nothing. Just do what you can for you and your children. If it feels like you have to cut off something you hold dear to be stronger for them, then do it." Her free left hand began to play with the M charm. "But what we do as adults teaches them what to do."

He nodded. "I wasn't even gonna come here. I was gonna go to my best friend, my partner, and tell him. I barely know you, and just knew that you wouldn't call me a dumbass for sticking around this long."

Michonne bitterly smiled, "we're all dumbasses in our own special ways."

"Yea, well she actually kicked me out when I confronted her. I'm staying at a hotel, because, you know, I'm dumb enough to let that happen."

He smiled back, until stillness returned in the space between them.

"Rick, what are you doing?"

"I, I don't know. I know I should leave, but I don't want to." Michonne looked the other way. He gently moved her chin to look at him. "You don't want me to leave either."

Michonne bit her lip. "We're two people dealing with some messed up situations. It's hard to even think right."

Rick's hand moved from her chin, to her cheek, to her lips, and finally left her face. "You might be right. But when we're not dealing with those situations?"

She couldn't believe that this man could sway her equilibrium the way he did. "You know my number."

"I know your office number," he hinted. He played with his ring again. "You're right Michonne. I don't know what would have happened if you let me just, I don't know. I'm not in the right frame of mind. Thank you for listening to me." He stood up to walk out and Michonne followed.

"715-3840."

He turned around to see her right behind him at the door. "Excuse me?"

"715-3840. That's my cell number."

He grinned and left. When the door closed, she fanned herself. After a moment of deep thought, she rushed to grab her bag of Naughty Taughtie goodies and ran into the bathroom.


	10. Chapter 10

**_AN:_**_ I don't own anything from The Walking Dead except for my love (ahemObsession)._

_I took a cue from other writers. I'll PM in response to some reviews. All others will have my response displayed on each update._

**Chapter 10**: Protection

Shane was born with a head full of hair. Despite his age, his mama was terribly upset when he shaved most of it off. He loved her to death, but could care less what she desired for his appearance. Besides, it allowed him to handle frustrating news as best as he could. His hands rubbed his skull twice as fast as his feet paced the floor.

"Whutchu mean, she kicked you out?" demanded a perplexed Shane. "Son, are you honestly tellin' me you caught her with her hand in tha' cookie jar, and _she_ sent your ass packin."

Rick solemnly nodded as he leaned on Shane's desk. Daryl slowly shook his head in disbelief.

"And you stayin' at a hotel?" Shane poked further while his hands created steam on his scalp.

"Well, yea."

Daryl mumbled, "unbelievable." He rose his voice slightly so his comrades could hear him. "Well, maybe he just did that 'cause of the kids. Just 'cause she did what she did, doesn't mean tha kids gotta suffer."

"There are reasons you're still a virgin…"Shane responded.

"Whut?!"

"Nothin', I meant nothin' by that Daryl. I'm just pissed off that this bitch…"

Rick stopped leaning on the desk, "she's no bitch."

"Okay, I'm sorry. Allow me to clarify, I'm just pissed that this whore gets to prance around the house like she didn't do shit wrong. What the hell Rick, just cause you love her doesn't mean you should be a sap!"

Rick pinched his nose. His fingers tingled, echoing the surprise he gave Michonne earlier that week. "I'm not perfect," he reflected.

Shane and Daryl shared a glance. "What, 'cause you're sweet on that lawyer chick? Wantin' someone doesn't mean cheatin'. If that's so, that means tha' whole town done slept wit' her. I mean damn, who hasn't thought a lil bit about her," Daryl waxed poetically.

Rick's eyes blinked rapidly at the thought that Michonne was someone that not only he desired. She was definitely different from the usual run of the mill King's County women. No one noticed his reaction. Instead, Shane annoyingly stared at Daryl.

"I know you ain't special, stick with the program Daryl! Let's focus, man. Rick, you know we all go way back. You could'a stayed with me or virgin boy over here. I don't agree wit you letting her off scot's free like that, but don't make yourself suffer because of what she did."

Rick nodded his head. He didn't want to stay with Daryl and deal with the random women that ran through because of his reckless brother Merle, but he wasn't going to voice anything negative in response to the offers. "You're right. I just, I don't know, I feel like I must have done something to make this happen. No one cheats for no reason. I must have lost her a long time ago. No matter what I did, no matter how I tried, it wasn't good enough. I failed."

They didn't want to admit getting choked up and Rick's defeat, and neither one of them even jested him as he wiped his eyes before the tears escaped. They just simply patted his shoulder, empathizing with a man who was attempting to come to terms with a doomed marriage.

-00000000000000000000000000000000000-

D.A. Rhee was all about justice. He reveled when comic heroes came on as top as good, but sulked when they were twisted to be bad. He dreamed of relocating to larger metropolises, where he could make more of a difference than dealing with run of the mill crimes within a small county. He was both elated and disappointed when the Sgt. Ford case plopped on his desk. Here was a chance to send someone away for something horrible. At the same time, it meant someone had to die horribly in order for him to do something "meaningful". What was supposed to be an open and shut case was turning a dragging clusterfuck. He knew he should pursue the case even further, but found himself not adding pressure to the situation as more information seeped out. Abraham was a cheater, but the woman he cheated with – the celebrity of all people, was having an affair with his best friend. That best friend named Eugene Porter, was a stalker, was beyond strange, and coincidentally failed at attacking Ford's attorney Michonne Gibson. Glenn poured a drink.

"Honey," Maggie crossed her legs sharply adorned in business attire. "We don't drink during lunch. What's on your mind?"

He loved how her beautiful face scrunched up when she felt his worry. "Nothing." Her face squinted more. "Okay, it's that stupid Ford case." He gulped some whiskey. "There's nothing that makes sense about that damn thing!"

Maggie chuckled. "Stop drinking. You might be cute to me when you get drunk, but no one out there will know what the hell you're saying. Remember at the Grimes' last anniversary party?"

Glenn smirked at the thought. He barely remembered a thing, except, "why didn't you pull me off that table sooner?"

"I told you I did. It had to be at least five times when you continued to sing old Prince songs."

"Not my best moment, huh?"

She smiled. "No babes. Carl might've been traumatized." Glenn stared at his glass, putting it down gently. She reached over to clasp his hand. "You can't tell me everything, but you can tell me something. What's going on."

"I don't want to put a man away for something he didn't do."

He returned her hold with a slightly tight grip. "You won't because you always do what's right. That's why you married me."

_You're so right,_ he reflected. "Madame Mayor, can we extend this lunch date a little?"

-000000000000000000000000000000000000000000000-

Michonne had a strong dislike for when people poked and prodded more than they needed to. Beth Greene wanted to know more than was necessary.

_"He seemed like a great father Ms. Gibson. I just want to know why. It could affect Andre."_

_"That's not your concern. Just know that he can't pick him up from school anymore."_

_"I understand, but-"_

_"But, nothing."_

_"You two seemed so happy. I'm just sorry whatever happened, happened."_

Who was Michonne kidding? She disliked that woman's doe-eyed nosiness because the truth hurt. She had high hopes that Mike was finally going to completely change. She loved him since she met him. He was that guy that was never intimidated by her formidability. They were always there for the rough times. He couldn't handle it though. The drugs were his real wife. That's why she allowed him to propose, but didn't commit to what it really meant. She could find comfort in him, but his escape was elsewhere. She wish she knew he would never come back the first time he tried Mary Jane. The rabbit hole only deepened as he cheated on her with other escapades. Her father warned her that an addict and non-addict never gel. Of all people, he would know.

Many memories came flooding at once. She had to park her car and let it all flow out. It was moments like this that made her pleased with the fact that she didn't rely on make-up often. She banged her head on the steering wheel as streams of saltiness flowed down her cheeks. She actually giggled half way through her episode. It was really getting tiring to be crying so often. She pulled down a visor to clean her face in it's reflection, when she noticed something else.

A blonde woman and a taller man were crossing the street, hand and hand. Her eyes focused to see that it was Andrea and Judge Blake! Her jaws clenched. She touched the door handle and was about to charge at them, until she saw the blissful smile gleaming from her friend's face. The woman was so high that she didn't even notice Michonne's car. She let them continue on with their momentary happiness. She would definitely call her later, though. There was something about this union that made her jaws clench.

-00000000000000000000000000000000000-

"So, what d'ya wanna do?" asked the deputy as he paced the length of the room.

The DA tapped his thumb across his top lip while his fist remained balled. "It should be plain as day, right. It's not up to me to decide who's guilty or not, but I am gonna drop the charges against Sgt. Ford. We have to make sure Porter gets put away."

Rick nodded, satisfied with his words. "I'm pretty certain he's the one. He's a creepy piece of shit."

"He's the same one that attacked Ford's attorney, right?"

Glenn noticed Rick's face twisted in a strange mixture of anger and amusement. "Yea, he _tried_ to attack her, but that woman is something else. We showed up but she already put him down. I never saw anything like that. You can look at her and tell there's something about her, but I never thought she could go toe-to-toe with a man."

The DA looked wearily at his friend. "How's Lori," he deadpanned.

All of the excitement exited Ricks' face quickly. He sulked into a seat and pinched the bridge of his nose. He looked across the desk and eyed Glenn. "She's, uh, she's cheating on me."

"What?!"

"I walked in on her, talking like she never even did with me…" He thought of how he acted out of character with Michonne on several occasions. "She told me to get out when I confronted her."

"Didn't you two just start taking counseling?" Glenn twisted his ring, comforting himself and hoping he'd never have these type of problems.

The corner of Rick's upper lip flinched. "Yes, this Monday as a matter of fact. She sat in there and basically asked about divorce. Glenn, I don't know what it is, but I just haven't been givin' that woman what she wants."

"You can't put it all on yourself. She hasn't seemed happy period, even before Judith was born."

Rick only pursed his lips in response.

"Maybe I can get Maggie or Beth to speak with her."

Rick rose his hand. "No, just no. Let it be." Glenn felt for the man. Did this mean that after all these years, as everyone else knew it but him, he was finally giving up on something that seemed destined to end?

Rick stood up and walked towards the door. He placed his hand on the door handle. "You and Maggie…don't ever mess that up. Even if you don't think you are."

-000000000000000000000000000000000000000000-

He forgot who Shane was when he decided to stay at his house. Merle wasn't the only person who had a problem with a stream of women flowing through the door. It was better than hearing Merle berate his little brother and getting into another fight (why hadn't Daryl kicked him out by now confused the shit at him). Still, Rick was not amused to hear some woman yelp like a hyena from the bedroom. It was only 5:30pm, for Christ's sakes!

His annoyance was forgotten once he received a strange text. _I live at 303 Pine Street. Please hurry 911!_

-00000000000000000000000000000000000000000-

Her hair stood on end as she parked in front of her townhouse during that beautiful sunlit evening. Andre pitched a fit when she didn't lift him from his car seat.

"You're a big boy, and Mommy has to carry our dinner." He crossed his arms angrily. _Don't be an idiot, pick him up_, her gut told her. "This is the last time," she warned.

The entranceway seemed normal, but she knew it wasn't. As she walked in further, she found her kitchen in a disarray. Her pots, pans, and some food was strewn thoughout. Not even the walls were safe.

-00000000000000000000000000000000000000-

The drive there made a minute seem like 20. He just knew a person who could handle themselves would only ask for help if it was really bad. He parked his car and left it before it fully shut off. Rick rushed through the door, and followed the noise of running water. Rick never saw Michonne look so weak. She quickly wiped the tears from her face. She still somehow looked beautiful, despite the snot that ran down her mouth and the mess that overtook her kitchen.

-0000000000000000000000000000000000000-

Andre was finally asleep and most of the kitchen was cleaned. No matter how often she told him that it was okay, that he didn't have to help clean, he reiterated that he didn't mind.

"You need to get a restraining order on that prick."

She moved a stray strand from her face. "You and I know that that piece of paper doesn't do shit."

"We also know that it would cover you if you have to protect yourself." Silence. He moved closer to her as she furiously scrubbed a counter. "Has he ever hit you?" She ignored him and scrubbed harder. He placed his hand on her shoulder. "Michonne, has he?"

She didn't stop scrubbing. "If he ever tried, he got his ass whooped."

Rick believed her. "I don't think you and Andre should stay here tonight, alone. I wouldn't mind keeping watch."

Michonne smirked. Now she stopped scrubbing. "From your car, right?"

Rick scratched his head. "I wouldn't try anything, especially seeing that you just went through this. I might'a did something with you because I wasn't in the right frame of mind, but all I'm thinkin about right now is your protection." He knew that a lot of that was a lie. If he could, she'd be up on that counter screaming his name, mess or no mess.

"Wouldn't your wife be upset with you playing hero tonight?"

"My wife…" Rick was really tired of giving everyone updates on this subject. "My wife – you know her opinion doesn't count right now."

"Rick, we caved into our desires a while ago. That was wrong. Your wife counts until you are divorced. Besides, I don't want to be someone's rebound."

"You're way too good to be anyone's rebound."

Michonne was mad at herself for the heat that flashed across her cheeks. "I don't know what you want from me, Rick."

_A lot_. "Right now, I want you to think logically. If he did this, there's no telling what else he'll do. Do what's best for you _and_ your son. If he sees another car parked out there, he won't try anything stupid."

Michonne slowly nodded. "I have a guest room. But don't change anything in there. My, um, best friend likes to visit sometimes." She realized she was in no position to chastise Andrea about frolicking with the Judge, when the Deputy was about to spend the night at her home.

-00000000000000000000000000000000000-

Michonne couldn't sleep easily. Her mind continued to race. Meditation and a little bit of Yoga didn't help. Her thoughts ran wild and she couldn't contain it anymore. She lightly knocked on the guest room door.

"Hey," he responded. His voice was far from groggy.

"You weren't asleep."

"Neither were you." He sat up in the bed.

She sat at the edge of it. "I can't. I don't know why, I just can't."

"Your house was just ransacked. Not everyone can sleep easily with somethin' like that on the mind." He noticed her shoulders rise in the darkness. "You looked so happy with him at that restaurant."

"And so did you."

"No, I was trying and she was miserable. You two actually seemed to still be enjoying each other."

"Yea, well, drugs have a way deteriorating that."

"Why would you settle for a druggie?" he inquired.

"Why would you settle for a whore," she retorted.

Rick nodded, realizing that she stung him the way that he stung her. "She wasn't always a cheater."

"And he didn't always use drugs." She turned to look at him. He could make out her lashes as her huge eyes blinked.

"Why are we defending these people who don't care about us as much as we care about them?"

"I don't know Rick. I've gotten used to defending him, even against the world. I don't know if I lost some of me along the way, but it was all about proving that he was worth it. I think he hated me on some level for always trying to make it work, when he was already fargone."

"I know what you mean. She hated me no matter what I did." He paused in reflection. His voice rasped and he moved closer to her. "You're better than that. You don't have to hurt yourself just to make someone else happy. You deserve your own," he breathed in the air that exhaled from her open mouth, "happiness."

She placed a hand on his chest. "So do you, Rick." She placed a kiss on his forehead and relunctantly retreated to her own bed.


	11. Chapter 11

**_AN_**_: Thanks for reading and reviewing (and patience)!_

**Chapter 11: **Roomies!

_The day's air was thick with the smell of blood and rotted corpses. Her instincts told her she was used to this, but it wasn't supposed to be in this place. The smell got stronger as she came closer to the gate. What was once a young man crawled on the ground to grab her foot. She didn't put much thought to using her katana to puncture his head. _Rigby…the idiot didn't guard like he was supposed to_, she reflected as she noticed that the gate's door showed little foul play. She didn't have much time to investigate. _

_Other walking dead people came at her. They moved slow, but she knew that she was faster. She also know that if they scratched or bit her, she was a goner. Tears formed as she saw all of the recognizable faces: Mrs. Brown, the former day care provider who figured out how to bake food with the least but amount of supplies. John, the barber who assumed leadership although he never really wanted it. She painfully sliced through them and more as she made her way through. There was hope. There had to be a way. This just couldn't be it…_

_She kicked open the door to not smell the resounding order that resonated throughout the camp. Instead, it was the aggravating stench that she thought he was rid of before the world changed. The stench of drugs filled the air. The mother fucker was using that while mayhem was happening right outside their door, while their baby was in the same place! He did it again. He let them down again…_

_Her vision was suddenly blurry as she stumbled her way through. All of that power and ferocity that she used outside had left her. As she got closer to the truth, to the inevitable, her insides threatened to burst out of her. The lone and small sneaker with trails of blood and bits of tissue surrounding it._

_He kept letting her down. _

_There was no sign of her baby besides that sneaker. _

_He kept letting her down._

_She found him laughing to himself in a corner, bloodied and with part of his arm wrapped in a cloth. _

_"Chonney," he giggled. "I tried. I really tried, but it was too late." His chuckling collapsed into maniacal sobs. "We both tried. I'm so sorry, but they got him."_

_"You're high."_

_He didn't reply. He just continued to sit in that corner and cry, asking God why had He forsakened him. _

_Her grip tightened on that katana. Her jaw clenched so hard that a tooth chipped. She wasn't there as her body began to slice at him. She didn't hear his screams as his arms were severed off. She ignored the grunts as she ripped off his lower jaw. She simply wasn't there. All she knew was, he kept letting her down. He let Andre down. He was dead, but he really needed to die. _

"He needs to die, he needs to fucking..." The first thing she noticed was that her hands were clenching the silk sheets. Secondly, the sheets were soaking wet from her perspiration. Michonne wiped her silk red sheets, the material slowly bringing her back into reality. In front of her was the large dresser that hid the flat screen from view, her closet to the side that encased half of her wardrobe , and to the other side was the long dresser with her vanity mirror. She wiped some drool off of the side of her mouth, and began to stretch in her tangled sheets. The familiarity of her space began to slowly comfort her. This was her new house with the expansive room, the nice pool at back, and no insane threats of people where the dead who's only desires were to eat the living. She reached further out to touch his muscled flesh, hoping she could stimulate him into some grinding to get that horrible dream out of her head. All she felt was emptiness. Memories of Andre being neglected while Mike was beyond intoxicated flowed back into her brain. _He kept letting her down…_

-0000000000000000000000-

The alternative sounds of Data Romance flowed through the kitchen as she danced and flipped pancakes. As each pancake flipped in the air, Andre cheered. He enjoyed the show that his mother presented him. "You are like a streetlight…" Flip! Clap, clap! "In a dark view…" Flip! "Wow Mommy!" "That I hope was the end…" She turned with the spatula/mike to grab his little hands in a dance. "But blinded me instead…" She twirled him around her. His giggles vibrated throughout the kitchen. "So now I am wondering…" She playfully lifted him back to his chair. "Blind and suffering…" Her hips continue to sway to the beat as she tended to some eggs.

"Oh, oh, um…excuse me," a man's Southern twang of a voice interrupted Michonne's performance.

She turned around in embarrassing shock to see Deputy Grimes standing in her kitchen with a white tank and grey sweatpants. She could easily see the sweat that was beginning to form at the top of his forehead. He attempted to swallow deep and control the erection that threatened to pop out of his jeans. He didn't expect to follow the noise of the (to him) foreign music that came from the kitchen to seeing her like this. Her purple robe was unfairly short. It was so tiny, that it revealed the boy shorts that merely covered the bottom of her toned ass. Her attempts to cover the image of her cleavage, which bounced around under her camisole as she spun around, did nothing to take away from it being stamped into his brain. There was nothing she could do to hide her long and strong thighs, and the elongation of her slender neck. He couldn't put his finger on what was the most majestic about her. Her dark and smooth complexion's effect on his thoughts worried him. His usual movements in the morning involved burying himself inside of Lori's walls. It wasn't hard for him to innately and naturally think of strumming his tongue all over her body, plunging it into her pink center, rubbing his hands over that perfectly round bottom as he sucked and twisted her bud in his mouth…

"Oh my God, I forgot you were here!" Despite tying the robe's strings, the design of it was made to be sexy.

Rick had to clear his throat as he responded and avoided her breasts. "I'm sorry, I'll just wash up and go about my day. Morning champ!"

Michonne couldn't help but smile as he rubbed her son's head. The toddler's upbeat mood continued. "Morning!" he returned.

"There's no rush," she suggested as she turned around to continue preparing breakfast. She tried to ignore the eyes that obviously fell to her backside again. _He's already seen it_, she figured. "Breakfast is almost done. How about you just have a seat, relax and eat? I'm sure you'll have a busy day, so you might need to mellow out beforehand. Besides," a pancake flipped into the air. Andre cheered, causing Rick to be impressed and admire the scene beforehand. "It's the least I could do for you helping out, I guess."

Her head turned around to observe his reaction. They both knew she wasn't so keen in the first place with him staying over. Perhaps her defensive walls were breaking down? He slowly nodded his head, reading the change in her eyes of how she saw him.

"You know, we may have to discuss how long I should stick around." He momentarily looked at Andre, who sat beside him at the island. His next words were filled with as much code as possible. "It depends on how long you're safe…how ever long you may take to take this to the next step."

While he spoke, she was preparing their plates. His last sentence caused her to pause and put her hands on her hips. She looked up to the ceiling for an answer. "It's not something I want to do. It's the sign that this is the beginning of _it_. That's me not thinking talking." She stared into his eyes. "You were right when you told me that I have to get that order. I knew it too. Why care when he doesn't…when our son…" Her jaws clenched as she looked at Andre's confused face for strength. All he knew was that his mom who was so happy a moment ago suddenly had glossy eyes. She wouldn't allow herself to cry in front of this man and her little man.

Rick wanted to leap over to her and wrap her slender body in his arms. Instead, he walked up to her and tilted his head into her space. He could feel her pain. "You're not gonna go at this alone," he barely got out.

She blinked twice. She wanted to say, _You barely know me_, but she didn't. "I know," was her response. She stepped backwards a bit to lengthen their distance. "Besides, it seems like you don't want to stay at your boy Shane's house for a reason."

The pressure and heat that momentarily took over his body slowly dissipated. "Uh, yea. You have no idea," he smiled.

"Aren't you two best buds," she inquired as she continued to fix their plates.

He laughed, "yes. Since the third grade. That's even more reasons to not stay there."

She kissed Andre as she placed his Spider-man themed plate before him. "I could surmise that there's probably too much action going on over there?"

"Why would you say that?"

"Grimes," she smirked as she motioned for him to sit and join her at the island. "He's the playboy and you're the family man. You probably suffered the second you got in there."

Rick frowned as he nodded. "What are you, the people whisperer?"

She chuckled, "if that was so, then I'd know why you're not staying with the reserved one, with Daryl."

"Oh, those are for reasons that go beyond Daryl. He has a brother named Merle. That's all I'm gonna say on that."

"Merle…hmmmmm, Merle. That name sounds vaguely familiar." She chewed on a piece of sausage. "Is he the one that works at the gas station nearest Martinez's Gun Shop?"

"Amongst other things, yes."

Michonne shook her head. "Say no more."

"I could stick around here as long as needed, despite your weird taste in music," he volunteered.

"My apologies for your lack of good taste," she deadpanned.

Rick grinned in response.

There was silence as they ate, with exceptions of munching and little Andre humming. Michonne began to consider her day's events, which involved informing Abe that Rosita was actually getting ready to testify in his defense. She wondered how she was going to fit in filing for a restraining order with court appearances for her other clients, a little bit of shopping that was suddenly necessary, and figuring out what the heck Andrea was up to. Filing a restraining order in major cities was an epic day's worth of a hassle. She hoped it was different here.

Rick contemplated the release of Abe. DA Rhee was probably going to shock the shit out of Michonne with the revelation. She'd be relieved, but simultaneously pissed when she'd find out that Eugene was firing all public defenders as he requested only her counsel. What a sick man…More discerning thoughts came to mind. He was sitting here with this woman and her child, this woman he barely knew weeks ago. They ate as he often did at home with his wife and two children. There may have been arguments from time to time, but he always loved the security of knowing that on each day he could wake up to see the woman he loved and his beautiful children. He couldn't just sit back as she did whatever she wanted, but he barely see the two people who mattered the most to him. As he pushed Michonne to put some finality between her and Mike, he didn't know if he was moving towards legal separation and ultimately a divorce, or if he'd soon become a fool and accept Lori back into his life romantically.

They both continued to eat, preparing for a day full of variables.

-000000000000000000000000000000-

Filing the order of protection took up less time than she expected. The process was easy as well. An employee of the County clerk informed her, however, that she had to find a way to have Mike served. She wasn't sure how this was going to happen, especially since she didn't know where Mike currently lived.

Michonne was actually ecstatic about the extra limited free time that she had. What wasn't such a shock was that Andrea was still in town. Her friend attempted to mask her whereabouts, but Michonne didn't interrogate her over the phone. She wanted to save that for their mini shopping trip.

The women perused through Dillards, making random small talk.

Michonne finally decided to cut through the filler talk. "What are you still doing here in Kings County," she questioned as she held up a long robe.

"What? I thought we were still talking about cous cous versus pilaf."

"Cut the bullshit, Ang." Michonne mentally noted how unattractive a long, beige, and fuzzy robe was. "You don't have a job out here. Your sister is still out in ATL. You didn't let me know you were here. I had to call you to be for sure, and you didn't even come over to see Andre." Michonne's eyes bored into Andrea's, who attempted to dodge her death stare. "I saw you with that man."

Andrea's face changed from that of confusion to all out irritation. "I'm sorry, _Mom, _I didn't know it was your business if I got some on occasion. I'm supposed to tell you if I'm sleeping with someone?"

"No Andrea, and you know that's not what it is. I just want to know if you know what you're doing."

"Are you kidding me," the blonde seethed. "I just freaking helped you, for the umpteenth time, pick up the pieces from the worst slimeball out there, and you're questioning _me_?"

Michonne bit her lip. She knew her friend was right. But she knew her downfalls with Mike were small fries in comparison to how Andrea changed with men. "There's a conflict of interest here. He is a judge, one of the few judges here. I'm a defense attorney. This can get odd. Besides all of that, he rubs me the wrong way. Are you staying with him, _already_, or what?"

Andrea rubbed her furrowing her eyebrows. "I never judge you on your decisions, but you always seem to do it with me. Real cool, Michonne. Look at you, shopping for some granny PJs because of Mike!" _That's not the reason_, Michonne thought to herself. Andrea continued her rant. "All I want you to do is be happy, but you can't for me?"

"Andrea, if there was nothing to hide, if you were just dating this guy with no problems, why didn't you reach out to me and ask to stay with me while you at least got to know him? Instead, you're already staying with him…?" Michonne maintained her composure, despite Andrea's obvious frustration.

"Michonne, I didn't want to impose when I knew you were still having a tough time about Mike."

"I don't believe that."

"You know what, believe whatever you want to believe. I'm old enough to know what the hell I'm doing." With that, Andrea stormed off.

They barely argued in their many years of friendship. Admittedly, that hurt Michonne.

-0000000000000000000000000000000-

"Son, you just leave places without even a 'Dear John' letter or nothin'? I was gettin' ready to propose and settle down with your ass, but you go off runnin' like that!"

Rick merely smirked as Daryl chuckled at Shane's mocked broking heart. "I'm sure you'll get over it."

"Where you run off too? I was about to go lookin' for you in shelters and shit. Nobody wants to find Officer Friendly waitin' in line at the local soup kitchen. Are did you find a new sweet thang to cuddle up with?"

Rick succeeded at hiding the heat that flushed his face in response to Shane's last question. "I stay a hotel, nothin' special."

"Which one, so that Daryl doesn't bring a workin' girl over there by mistake," Shane asked.

"Man, shut the fuck up. You ain't that funny!" Daryl retorted. "I don't have to pay for ass, get the fuck outta here! Maybe the only reason you switch between women is because nobody wants to settle for a small dick!"

"Is that right, Mr. Lone Wolf," Shane challenged. "Let's face it – we never see you wit a date because no one wants to date the crazy loner dude. When's the last time you ever got some? I remember, it was that house named Sheila back in the tenth grade! I'm sure by now, your dick done shriveled up from neglect!"

Both of his partners stood up, defending their manliness and catching amnesia about Rick's situation. He slipped off into his patrol car. Before starting the engine, he contemplated if he should attend the hearing where he was sure he'd witness Michonne's beautiful face light up at the surprise drop of charges against Abraham Ford by DA Glenn Rhee. Then again, he could look forward to that later and pretend to be surprised later when he came ho…to her place after work. She'd probably see right through him and just know that he knew beforehand.

Home.

He drove down the familiar route that he could drive with his eyes closed. Only the retired population of the community were out and about on their lawns, waving to him as he drove back and playing ignorance to what he was sure was the town gossip about his marital situation. He parked in the driveway, please to see that only Lori's Nissan was there. He didn't knock, took out his keys, and allowed himself in. He followed the Country music into the washroom, the same place where he overheard her telling some random guy how good his dick tasted, amongst other things. He was of course pleased to see just her standing there in Yoga gear, and not being rammed up on the dryer.

"Rick, what the hell are you doing here?" she demanded.

"Hi Lori, nice to see you too."

She placed her hands on her hips.

"This is my house. I pay for the mortgage. My kids live here…my house! I can come in if and when I damn well please."

"Oh, so you have balls now? Listen here, _Deputy_, I take care of this damn place, clean it, remodel it, take care of the kids…All you are is some phantom that pays bills. That's it!"

"You make no fucking sense," he seethed. "I took you and the kids out. I did stuff, Lori….thangs! You never bitched and complained anytime we fucked! You're telling me some phantom would do that?! You're a spoiled, bored whore, that's it!"

"You sonnovabitch! How dare you call me that?!"

They were several feet away, but Rick was so fired up that he began to close the space between them.

"You're gonna lose if you think it's gonna be to kick me out of my kids' lives, just because you decided yo get your rocks off with someone else." He was up on her, so much so that she could only breathe in the air he exhaled. "Who is he, Lori, who have you been cheating on me with?" His eyes were bloodshot due to the tears that were ready to burst out.

She turned away from him. "Does it even matter," she meekly responded.

He grabbed her face, engulfing her lips with his. He was hoping that his tongue sweeping up hers would stimulate what was lost, that it would recover butterflies that had died long ago in the pits of his stomach. It all felt mechanical. It all felt obligatory. She moaned and began to unbutton his shirt. She wasn't Lori. She was Michonne. He knew if this continued, he'd be betraying someone. Who it was, he wasn't sure. He grabbed her hands to stop her.

"I can't," he confessed, holding her wrists as his forehead rested on hers. "I just can't do that to…I don't give a shit if you keep the house. I just want my kids."

He left her deeply breathing as he slouched his way upstairs to get enough of his clothes.

-00000000000000000000000000000000000-

The scheduled case hearing took longer than expected. Abe's large hands sweated in trepidation. Michonne grabbed a hold of one of them. "This will all work out. Remember, Rosita is here to testify and the evidence is in your favor."

Abe clenched on to her comfort. "I know. I just always prepare for the worst and hope for the best. To even be sitting here, for Holly to die the way she did…I just can't always think positively when everything turned to shit like that."

His attorney knowingly nodded her head. She reflected on how the DA surprised her with a wink on the way into the court room. "This may be one day where you can allow yourself to be positive again."

Later, Glenn Rhee asked if they could speak with Judge Blake in his office. Even with an annoyed response, he agreed. He sat as both attorneys stood before him.

"I motion for this case to be dropped," DA Rhee announced. "There is more evidence against his friend Eugene. This is an innocent man – I'm convinced."

"It's not up to you to decide. That's my decision," Blake responded.

"Yes, but we the people can't effectively attempt to prosecute the defendant when there is a slew of evidence, especially forensic evidence, that indicates that this man shouldn't be the suspect," Rhee explained.

Blake smiled, looking between both Glenn and Michonne. "Are you the defendant, or the prosecutor? I'm confused. Are you doing this out of charity for Ms. Gibson? Is there something we need to tell the Mayor?"

Glenn's fist clenched while Michonne's face was flushed. "With all due respect, your honor, I don't know what you're trying to insinuate, but all I'm trying to do is make sure that justice will ultimately be served for the victim."

Philip Blake rocked in his chair, gloating to himself over the power he had. "What kind of evidence is there?"

"Eugene Porter didn't live or visit that residence often. However, his DNA was found under her fingernails and in traces of blood samples. A shirt of his has traces of the victim's tissue, is ripped, and he was obsessed over a mistress of the defendant. He also had a failed attempt at attacking Ms. Gibson." The Judge curiously eyed Michonne at that last bit of news.

The Judge folded his hands. "I don't dismiss any cases lightly, especially any that involve murder. I do believe in justice as well, that why I…."

**_-AN:_**_ Hey, I have to leave y'all hanging with something…__**-**_


End file.
